Heart of the Inferno
by DONOVAN94
Summary: "The third age is now at an end, and in its place I shall bring the wings and fires to herald a new era: the Age of Dragons!" Gandalf seeks the help of an unlikely ally to fight the evil of Sauron: Smaug. With Kathryn, a Seer, he shall go on a journey that will determine the fate of Middle-Earth forever. The fires have ignited, the ashes have scattered, but the inferno still rages.
1. Chapter 1 - A Secret Meeting

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! And welcome my story HotI! Finally, it's here and I must say it feels good to get back in the saddle! First of all, I want to say a huge thank you to all of my fans who have been patiently waiting for this and have been giving me all of their support and encouragement over the past several months. I know this is coming out much later then I said it would, but I wanted to make sure the plot was perfect and everything had been thought through before I presented it to you - I want my readers to have the best experience possible!**

 **Secondly, to new readers who have stumbled across this story, this is the third part of a trilogy. The first two are in the Hobbit archive labelled "Heart of Fire" and "Heart of Ashes". I would seriously suggest you go and read those two stories first before reading this one, as this will make a lot more sense if you do. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Also, apologies for the cover, but fanfiction REALLY got on my nerves because it kept cutting off the top and bottom of my cover that I spent hours working on, no matter how many times I shrunk it down. So, if you want to see it as it should be, check it out on my Deviantart page.**

 **Usual Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hobbit or LotR or the Silmarillion, I only own any OC's and AU parts.**

 **Please Enjoy!**

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Heart of the Inferno

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Chapter 1 – A Secret Meeting

 _"Elen sila lumenn omentilmo" - A star shall shine on the hour of our meeting_

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It was in a secret place, far beyond the eyes and ears of others, that the two met in secret. With nothing but the green and shadowed places to surround them, nestled in the heart of nature's bosom they came. The evening light painted the world in a menagerie of colours, even in a place so deep away from civilisation. A state between the worlds of night and day, when the two merge in a form of limbo that can be as equally terrifying as it is beautiful, for one does not know of the horrors darkness brings, even if there is splendour in its endlessness. The trees kept their silent vigil, forming a circle of guardians around the clearing that kept out unwanted observers from seeing the two souls they sheltered in their shadows. The ground was carpeted in moss, and the air was alive with the sound of bird song and the chatter of insects, as if the orchestra wanted to mask the sounds of the conversation about to be held.

An old man walked into this little isolated place, his grey beard reaching down to his belt, his grey robes shrouding his fragile form as he used his staff to help him on his way. But his kind grey eyes watched with growing adoration as he beheld his partner in this little conversation between them. A lady draped in white, her eternal youth shining like that of her golden hair in the sunset light, she watched him with a soft smile as he approached and bowed to her reverently.

" _Mithrandir…"_ She spoke in a voice as deep and rich as an ocean pool, yet had a powerful rumble that was unexpected of one such as herself.

"My Lady Galadriel," Gandalf the Grey murmured as he stood straight to look into her eyes, his old features seeming to dissipate slightly at his happy smile. "Thank you for meeting with me."

"I could not ever forsake you. Especially when you bring such dire matters to order." She spoke in the common tongue.

"So you know of why I come?"

"I do." She nodded solemnly. "And I know that you would only come to me with this if you thought you had no other to turn to."

"I did warn of this." Gandalf muttered as he approached her, one hand on his hip. "Sixty years ago – during the quest for Erebor – I warned the White Council of the dark powers beginning to stir. But Saruman and Elrond will not listen to me. They believe I have cried wolf one too many times. But I know what I speak of. What happened then was just a build-up, a prelude, to what is now coming."

"You forget Gandalf, that I too have seen it." Galadriel told him gravely. "It is a fog that seeps into our lands, unchecked and unseen, poisoning all it touches. It is the work of darkness, an evil that we should guard against with our very lives."

"Up until this moment, they have gone unnoticed, working in secret, moving little pieces on the board at a time. But now, their final move is at hand. I fear that now these dark forces are gathering and beginning to take form."

"Such things concern me greatly, Gandalf. Such things we cannot take lightly." She moved slowly, her body ever holding such grace and regal-grandeur that it was perfection taken form, as she paced in a slow circle around the clearing. "There are whispers that the fires of Mordor can be seen again on the boarders of Gondor… Something is coming. It is coming for us all Gandalf and it shall not discriminate in who it vanquishes and how it achieves its dark ends. When it is done, all shall be naught but dust, and the end of our world as we know it."

"Do… do you believe me, My Lady?" Gandalf asked somewhat nervously. "Do you believe –"

"That it is our enemy?" She raised a brow at him. "Of that I cannot say. If that is true, then it means that we were deceived back in Dol Guldur, but no power has resided over Mordor since ages passed."

"Whether it be our enemy or something else, we can no longer deny that war is brewing upon our horizon. As it stands, we have grown idle in peace, and should dark forces amass we shall be seriously outmatched. Especially if our enemy regains his full strength."

"As Saruman is often fond of telling you," Galadriel's lips twitched into an amused smile that would have made mortal men fall to their knees before her. But then her expression sobered slightly as she continued. "The enemy cannot regain his full power without the One Ring."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean that he won't try."

"You would have us go to war, Mithrandir?"

"Believe me, My Lady, I would rather it not be so." Gandalf told her earnestly, his features pulled into a frown of distress. "There is nothing I would dislike more in this world then to drag our time of peace back into the darkness of war. But I cannot sit by and watch as all that I have come to love, all that is beautiful and good in this world, fall."

"What would you have me do?" She asked him softly as she turned to fully face him. "Should the armies of darkness arise, we shall only have fractured peoples to ally together. You know as well as I that the elves are slowly fading… the kingdoms of men are fractured… and the dwarves will never fully trust others."

"We must call upon the goodness in their hearts, make a last alliance that will pull them all together."

"Will that be enough?"

"It must be." He said. "And if not, we shall have to consider the need for more _drastic_ measures."

At his words, Galadriel eyed him, her eyes unreadable as one could not tell if she were curious or had the gaze of a predator sizing up its next opponent. The power of the elven lady was far greater than one would have ever thought, and it could all be felt in that one look. Gandalf decided to take her invitation to continue, and hesitantly spoke.

"Suppose, My Lady, that we were to have a _secret-weapon_ … one our enemy would never expect."

"I know of what you speak," she murmured, a slight frown creasing her perfect features. "The Dragon has long been on your mind."

"It is true, My Lady." The grey wizard nodded. "As of this moment, Smaug owes allegiance to no one. He has kept himself hidden away for the best part of sixty years, ever since the incident at Vathvael. But if he should side with the enemy, I fear for our very survival. There are no more black weapons, even the ore with which to craft them has not been found in hundreds of years, we have no way of defeating even a common wyrm. A dragon such as Smaug in the hands of evil could be used to terrible effect. But imagine what we could achieve if he were to side _with_ us."

"Now you talk of miracles, Gandalf." Galadriel fixed him with a piercing stare. "Smaug is a creature of greed and selfishness, he will not ever reform."

"No, I doubt he would completely. But even a creature as twisted as he is, is not purely evil."

"And what of the crimes he has committed against the free peoples?" She demanded. "He has slain countless in his search for gold, destroyed an entire Kingdom, he slaughtered innocents in a fit of rage and then attacked an entire city in the name of darkness. He brings nothing but misery and destruction and I dare say he relishes it. These crimes cannot be forgotten."

"I am not suggesting they should be. But he also saved the life of a young woman and helped to stop a plan to unleash Morgoth himself." Gandalf defended.

"And what of the darkness that lurks within him?" She asked gravely, her immaculate golden hair shifting in a breeze that whispered through the trees. "He succumbed once to its temptation, and it will only take one mistake for him to fall completely in its grasp. Can you gamble the fate of our world on the fine line he now walks?"

"My Lady, there is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug, something far more powerful. And I fear that we may need something just as equally dangerous with which to fight it." Gandalf tried to tell her. "Whether Smaug be with us or against us, we cannot leave anything to chance."

"Will his darkness be kept at bay?"

"I once told you, My Lady, that it is not great power that defeats great evil, but little acts of kindness and goodness." The wizard said slowly, a soft smile gracing his lips, lost in his own thoughts. "Smaug may be a wicked and cruel serpent, to be sure. But… I believe… that love can do many great things. Perhaps it can even redeem someone from the clutches of evil itself. If there is a love in this world for him, then I know without a doubt that it is powerful enough to conquer even the greatest of evil."

"I know of whom you speak." Galadriel said softly, her tone no longer as stern as it had been.

"Then I need not remind you that the dragon is not alone," he inclined his head to her as he leaned on his staff. "Smaug has with him a Seer: someone who would be very advantageous to us, but also someone that the demon Fankil thinks will be the key to unleashing Morgoth. If this is indeed the work of Sauron, we will have enough to handle without also including the true Dark Lord, for then it will surely be the end of days."

"I agree."

"So we must act! We have to act before the enemy is aware of what we are doing and takes one step ahead ahead of us."

"You think she will help us?"

"I believe that Kathryn will try. She is a soul frightened to death of the darkness that now haunts our boarders, but also of the danger that comes with her abilities. I hope she will do what she feels to be right."

"Gandalf… can you be sure that Smaug will not succumb? Dragons were once the creatures of darkness itself, chained to its will."

"Then perhaps it is time to break those chains." Gandalf murmured with an edge of defiance to his voice. "Smaug is one of the last great Fire-Drakes, the greatest dragon of the age, and the descendant of Ancalagon himself! In him burns a fire so great it could melt the rings of power – apart from the One Ring, of course."

"All of which means he could be all the easier for the enemy to control."

"Either way, My Lady, I honestly believe that if nothing else, we must at least try to have Smaug on our side." Gandalf pressed, almost in a desperate plea. "And perhaps, with Kathryn's help, he might be more inclined to agree."

"You always have a way of seeing the light, even in the darkest corners of our world…" The Lady Galadriel's smile was soft and slow, and Gandalf heard the warmth in her voice that inspired him so. "Hold on to that gift, Mithrandir, for it will hold you well in the dark days to come."

He looked down at his hands to find her suddenly in front of him, as if she had always been standing there. The great elven lady took his old hands in hers, her gentle touch filled with such grace and affection that it warmed his seemingly ancient flesh down to his very core. He looked back up to meet her beautiful gaze with his, a small smile on both their lips to be happy to be in the other's company, even if they wished it were on better circumstances.

"I cannot begin to even guess at what the future has in store for us… how your actions will change our current path, whether it be for good or ill… but I trust you, Mithrandir, I know your heart will do naught but good in all its intents."

Her words were spoken with truth, and Gandalf found that he had no answer with which to give her that would even begin to compensate for what she gave him. Even to a Maiar such as himself, she still had the power to render him speechless.

"So go." She whispered to him softly, gently lifting a single strand of his long grey hair from his face to tuck it behind his ear. "Venture forth with my blessing and good luck."

"Thank you My Lady," Gandalf bowed his head to her in nothing short of worship, before he straightened with an amused smirk. "I fear I will need it."

She smiled.

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 **A/N: Please review! All comments are welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2 - 60 Years in the Making

****Author's Note:**** ** **Just so that people remember: Smaug in this story has four legs and is more classically dragon-shaped rather then a wyvern with only two legs. This is because when I wrote the original "Heart of Fire", I posted it before the Desolation of Smaug came to theatres, so it was written with the assumption that he had four legs. So now it's cannon in this story.****

 ** **WARNING: There are themes in this chapter which some readers might find upsetting. Triggers involved. I do not mean to upset anyone, but I thought you might like to be warned.****

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Chapter 2 – 60 Years In The Making -

 _"One morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green"_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Hobbit

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It is said that in order to be completely lost so as to never be found, one must go to the ends of the earth. Well, it just so happened that two souls had once been looking for that kind of solitude, and tried their hardest to find it. And it was that deep in the southern reaches of the Mountains of Ered Luin, near the lands of Harlindon, that they found their sanctuary.

And it was where a woman was having a terrible nightmare.

 _ _She ran down an endless corridor, vaulted ceilings reaching high above her, her feet slamming against the stone floor. Red hair streamed behind her, her arms and legs worked furiously in an attempt to propel her forwards.__

 _ _BANG__

 _ _A door behind her – what she was running from, she was sure – screamed as it struggled to stay shut. Whatever was behind it kept pounding into it mercilessly, desperate to break free. She yelped in fright and ran faster.__

 _ _BANG__

 _ _But her legs weren't moving fast enough, she wasn't progressing down the corridor. Why wasn't she moving? Panic made her heart feel like it was bursting free of her chest. She couldn't take it. She had to get out!__

 _ _BANG!__

 _ _She could hear the door splintering, the chains around it groaning under the pressure. An unearthly scream erupted, deafening her with its shrill sound. Hissing in pain, she almost stumbled, and desperately tried to push on. She could feel the door sucking her in, no matter how hard she fought against it.__

 _ _BANG!__

 _ _She fell. Immediately, the corridor was gone, in its place she was deposited into the snow. The wind howled as it whipped her red hair about her face, the air felt thin. The cold stung her skin and the snow was so deep it came up to her knees.__

 _ _A tremor passed through the ground, the mountain echoing with its aftershocks. She whirled around and looked up as another giant step sounded. She screamed as she looked into the long, crooked, crocodilian face, lips pulled back to sneer, horns creating a devilish silhouette. It lunged for her with open jaws. Teeth pierced her skin, she screamed and fought. But strong muscles pulled her down as she passed into its gullet.__

 _ _And then, she was surrounded by darkness. Flames ignited in the pit of eternal black, though they did nothing to illuminate the dark. Like vipers, the flames slithered towards her, and no matter how much she tried to scramble away, they circled her, trapping her.__

 _ _They hissed and bit at her flesh, searing her, devouring her piece by piece. She screamed with an old terror. She watched her flesh bubble and slip away from her bones as it melted. The pain speared through her very being, she thrashed and writhed, but could not escape. Her voice grew hoarse until all she could do was scream no more.__

 _ _But still she heard that unearthly scream, one not from her own mouth. It rang in her ears and goaded the fire to consume her. Flames swam into her vision, enfolding her in bright orange light –__

Kathryn bolted awake with a scream.

Sitting upright in her bed, she looked wide eyed around her at her surroundings. Slowly, she recognised the cave walls, the torches imbedded in the stone, the blankets and furs that covered her, the various objects dotted about the large chamber. With each familiar thing, she mentally assured herself that she was in her home, and nothing was wrong. She repeated it in her head like a mantra: she was safe… she was safe…

Growling to herself, Kathryn rubbed her palm across her aching temple. Her skull was pounding. It had happened again. Her body-clock told her that it was early morning, but despite this she felt as if she'd gotten no sleep at all. Her eyes felt heavy, but her heart was still skipping every other beat with anxiety. She couldn't fall back asleep.

This was getting ridiculous, she told herself, that was the third night this week that she'd been disturbed by these dreams. This problem needed to be solved; the past few months had been so restless; she hadn't been sleeping well at all. Sooner or later she would just shut down from lack of sleep – or at least, it felt that way.

With a grunt, she shifted herself until she was in a much more comfortable position in the gigantic bed. Sitting up with her elbows on her knees, she rubbed her face, trying to massage some life back into her body. A weary sigh puffed through her lips. Exhausted purple eyes stared blankly at the wall ahead. By Eru, she was tired.

 _ _Thud.__

She swivelled around, startled at the noise. A hand flew to her chest to calm her racing heart as she saw a familiar figure hunched in the massive tunnel entrance.

Smaug stood in all his draconic glory. Four legs held his massive body high until his ridged back was brushing against the tunnel ceiling. His wings were tucked tightly against his sides to avoid scraping them on the rocky walls. As he came into the main chamber, even had to stoop his long, serpentine neck to avoid hitting his head. Though the cave was large, it was nowhere near the size that Erebor's halls had been, and Smaug couldn't stand to his fullest height comfortably. He had initially complained when they'd first moved into the cave, and had even used his claws to try and make the cave bigger to more accommodate him. But Kathryn wondered if he had just been irritable for the sake of it, as he moved about the tight caverns with almost natural ease.

With a talon, he nudged in his kill: a large wild boar. Kathryn knew it was for her, as Smaug had gorged himself on whale meat only three days ago. He'd been gone the entire day as he'd flown out over the ocean and killed the gigantic beast. After a meal such as that, he wouldn't need to eat again for several weeks.

His bright eyes, that seemed to glow as if with their own fiery light, swivelled until they found her. Kathryn tried to put on a brave face, to make it seem as if all was well. But she should have known better. The moment his gaze narrowed onto her, he knew something was wrong. If he hadn't already felt her stress over their bond, then he could almost definitely tell by all the signs on her body. This time, Kathryn wondered if it was the sweat that still clung to her body, her sunken eyes or her fearful scent that had given her away.

With a hiss of his breath, Smaug slithered his way towards her. He came until his chest and forelegs were on one side, and he curled his long neck around the back of it until his head was on the other side. The bed itself was made up of cushions and furs and blankets made into a huge pile so that it could be a suitable mattress, with more furs and blankets on top in order to cover the sleeper in. At almost twelve feet wide, Kathryn was confident that no king in middle earth had a bed as big as hers. And it was on this bed that Smaug laid his gigantic head at the bottom, so that one of his massive eyes was level with her face.

"The dreams persist?" he asked, his deep voice rumbling powerfully in the stone chamber.

"Yes…" she murmured. Trying to make light of the situation, she tried to give a half-smile. "Thankfully I woke up this time."

"Do not jest," Smaug snapped reproachfully. "Your mind has becoming increasingly under strain these past few moons. Your mental structure will soon begin to crumble under such pressure."

"You make it sound as if I'm made of glass."

He eyed her before huffing, "You __are__ mortal."

"Need I remind you that you've bewitched me to the point where my mortality could now be put into academic debate?"

"I am a dragon. And dragons are –"

"If you say superior, I'll –"

"You'll what?" He grinned at her toothily in that vainly-smug way of his. "In this form you can do nothing to me."

Kathryn thought about that. He was correct. But then a smirk of her own spread across her lips at a wicked idea. "I can with-hold from you."

He scoffed. "That, my dear, is what is called an empty threat. You're already holding yourself from me, it can't get any worse."

She laughed, the light giggle floating out of her, even as her cheeks blushed. Despite how tired she felt, and all the worries that came with it, it felt good to laugh. It felt deeply reassuring to know that she could laugh still. The tension in her shoulders seemed to melt away, and she settled herself, her lips twitched upwards in a small smile.

Smaug noticed the change in her, his keen eyes never missing a thing. "Are you calm?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Next time, I'll be sure not to leave you until you awaken." He closed his eyes as if he was preparing for sleep himself. "If I have to watch you even in dreams to make sure your silly mortal soul doesn't attract danger, then I shall."

Kathryn sat in silence for a moment. Thoughts slowly started to churn inside her mind, and with them came the heavy burden that returned to her being. The worry gnawed at the core of her being, until she could no longer keep silent. "Do you… do you think its them?"

Smaug peeked at her from under his eye. "Them?"

" _ _Them__. All the rumours we've heard," her voice faded, her body turning cold as real fear began to swallow her. "What if they're the ones who are causing this?"

"That is very likely." He lifted his head, eyes distant as if he could see through the mountain walls to the world beyond. "Whispers are spreading, even this far east. The darkness is coming. I can taste it in the very air."

"Smaug," she whispered in a small voice. "What if they… what if they find us?"

"We've hidden ourselves well, if they have not found us now, then I doubt they will do."

"But –"

"Kathryn." The dragon fixed her with his flame-like eyes. "I will not let them."

She forced herself to relax. She had to trust in Smaug. They had to trust each other, it was the only way they were going to survive. Pulling back the covers and furs, Kathryn tried to crawl out of the bed towards her deposit of clothes at the bottom of the bed, not far from Smaug's claws. But before she could get far, said talon stretched out and ever-so-gently pushed her back towards her previous spot in the bed.

"Sleep," he commanded. "You need all your energy. I will not have either youngling or mate be lost to me now."

Despite the fact that Kathryn did not appreciate him ordering her around, she couldn't help but smile a little. She looked down. Beneath her simple nightdress, her belly bulged. It wasn't fully developed, but still her shape was changed enough to be noticeable. A smile spread over her face as she ran her hand across her stomach lovingly. Even though she'd been terrified at first, now she only felt apprehension for what she was bringing into the world.

She looked up at Smaug. "I am already months gone… when do you think it will be here?"

He sighed in exasperation. "Must you __always__ ask this question?"

"I'm soon to be a mother, Smaug, it's natural for me to want to know when I'm due. Then I can prepare myself… and get excited."

"Oh, joy," he muttered sarcastically.

"Well?"

"Who knows? A human pregnancy lasts nine moons, but a dragoness can hold eggs for longer. Not even I know what to expect."

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Just my luck that my baby will be unpredictable."

"Our child will be the rarest in all the world." Smaug's voice grew quiet as he leaned in closer towards her, the end of his long snout just in front of her face so that she was washed in his stinking breath. His head lowered until it hovered above her stomach and his black tongue darted out in a phantom lick. "And it's mine."

"Ah!" Kathryn gasped.

Smaug's eyes snapped towards her face. "What?"

"It kicked!" She looked down with wide eyes at her belly, she could still feel something inside of her moving. It was such an odd sensation. "It's moving!"

"The little beast had best not hurt you, I will not have my treasures be broken." Smaug glared at her stomach threateningly.

Kathryn rolled her eyes and tried to get out of the bed again. "Yes, because I'm sure it can understand commands __precisely.__ "

"Where do you think you're going?" Smaug glared at her as this time he used his head to push her back. He was extremely careful with her, only nudging her with enough force to unbalance her. That was the extent of their rough play these days. "I commanded that you rest."

"Smaug, I need to get dressed and prepare my meal. Or would you rather do that for me?" She gave him a pointed look.

Smaug continued to glare at her, but said nothing. Kathryn knew she'd won. Even though Smaug could shift between his true dragon form and that of a human (though not very frequently) he didn't like to do it. He only ever changed shape when he wanted to be intimate with Kathryn, and transformed himself back at the first opportunity. She knew he loathed being a "puny-mortal" and so she'd won her case, seeing as Smaug couldn't prepare a meal to her needs in dragon form.

Crawling out of the bed, Kathryn quickly dressed herself in the loosest dress and robe she had, and then made her way slowly over towards the dead boar and gathered her cooking utensils.

It had been a long sixty years, she reflected as she worked. After leaving Vathvael and the lands of Dorwinion, they had travelled for a time throughout the reaches of Middle Earth. They'd stuck to the shadows and the wilderness and the unknown places, keeping low so as to avoid as much detection as possible. They'd been on a search for a safe haven, a sanctuary where they could live in peace and avoid the clutches of those who wanted them for ill purposes. Smaug hid from the dark shadow of Sauron, the black twisted scar across is left breast a constant reminder of the stakes should he fail. Kathryn ran from the claws of Fankil, the demon-spawn of Morgoth himself. They had eventually come across an old tunnel system in the southern reaches of the mountains of Ered Luin, and so had decided to make it their home. With wild woods at the base of the mountain right up to the coast and no town or village for miles, it was the perfect place.

Not everything had been perfect, however. Both dragon and human had had to struggle to find any sort of semblance of peace. In both themselves, and each other. Kathryn had struggled for years to learn control over herself and master her abilities as a Seer. She knew that if someone were to search for her, they would find her through the use of her powers. Through study and meditation, Kathryn dedicated herself to finding a way to bring her previously erratic powers under control. It was imperative that she remain undetected by all. Though she succeeded mostly, it was still a daily struggle. She'd resigned to herself long ago that she would never be in control of herself, that she would always be ruled by the forces that were inside her body. The only way she would ever be free to make her own destiny, would be in death. But she'd managed to make her condition liveable, and she came to accept and be content with that.

Smaug, at first spent quite a while establishing a territory that he could easily defend, memorising every nook and cranny in all the lands he called his. He hunted and stole what he could in order to provide basic living conditions for himself and Kathryn. Back in those days she had been extremely anxious but now looked back fondly, as she remembered how Smaug had so diligently tried to keep his promise to her. He was under threat that if he gave in to his base and darker draconic nature, he would be consumed by the dormant darkness lingering in his soul. He'd promised Kathryn at the end of the incident at Vathvael, that he would no longer kill needlessly. Of course, he killed when in defence of their lives, but wherever possible, he did not. She knew how much it aggravated him, his vanity and simmering anger always made him want to crush any and all other he deemed to be inferior, but for her he fought that impulse. Once their cave was done, and Smaug had been satisfied that their location was as safe as he could make it, he had then turned to his own self-lessons. He'd done his best to supress the darkness in his body and control his darker impulses. It was not a seamless process, but Kathryn felt confident that he'd at least reached a stable place.

After that… they'd had to repair what had been lost between them. Their adventures in Vathvael had left both of them scarred from the experience. Neither could trust the other but couldn't live without the other either. Over the course of years, they'd slowly managed to forgive each other of their past sins, and built their trust once more. There were no lies – what would be the point in lying when they only had each other to interact with? And slowly, the magic had returned for both of them. Then, they'd become as like husband and wife – though there was never a ceremony, as Smaug said one was not needed for a couple such as them. It seemed as if peace had finally reached them at last.

But then, ten years ago, fifty years after they'd left Vathvael, tragedy had struck them. Kathryn had been in the early stages of her first pregnancy – a surprise to both of them – when she birthed a stillborn. Once, Kathryn had raged at Smaug of him impregnating her without her knowledge. Though now, Smaug confessed honestly that what had happened had been made purely by accident. But Kathryn remembered one of her arguments to him on that long night: what if she was unable to birth a child? Before, she'd never truly given it much thought, only that she never wanted such an awful thing to happen. But then, when she'd stared at the bloody bundle in the sheets, she'd screamed. It had felt as if someone had torn her heart from her chest, an earth-shattering grief unlike anything she'd ever known had consumed her, to the point where heartbreak was all she'd known.

Smaug had also been devastated, in his own way. On the night it'd happened, he'd never spoken a word. He'd been human at the time, and he'd gently pried Kathryn's fingers from the small bundle she'd held to her breast as she wept, and carried it away out of the cave. Kathryn had been boneless and dropped to the bed, and sobbed and screamed to herself with such heart-wrenching agony, she wanted to beg for death. Smaug had returned to her, hours later and held her through the night and the whole of the next day. He'd never told her what he'd done with the little body, but Kathryn knew there was no grave and no evidence. It was as if her little-one had simply vanished.

It had taken her months to recover. For weeks she had awoken in the night, screaming, she'd been distant and withdrawn. Smaug had been fearful that she would simply pass in dreams into the ether without any fight to live. It was only because of Smaug that she came back to the land of the living at all.

Over the next four years, they'd tried to move on, but another two miscarriages occurred. None had been planned, and all ended in failure. On the third one, Kathryn had actually asked Smaug to kill her, thinking that it would be a worthy punishment for murdering her own offspring, no matter how unintentionally. He had obviously refused. As he'd been in dragon-form, he had taken the little bundle into his mouth, when Kathryn had finally begged him to let her see this time what he did with the bodies. He'd been uncertain at first, but had then showed her. He'd taken her outside, and underneath the brilliant glitter of the stars, he'd ignited the fire in his chest. Kathryn had watched, his heart of fire glowing like its own sun between his scales. With the softest flame he could summon, Smaug let the fire trail into his mouth and gently embrace the still child within. The flames didn't hiss or crackle, but instead were silent and gentle, as if they too knew of the precious little life that had been extinguished far too early. With a hushed lullaby, the flames had enfolded the babe in its hold, carrying it away to the fair lands beyond the grave.

After a while, Smaug had opened his mouth, and let the ashes fly free to soar in the wind. For a moment, Kathryn had thought she'd seen a little dragon, with wings spread proudly flying forever free as it journeyed out over the ocean with the ashes into the west. Neither she, nor Smaug said a word as they stood there for hours. At one point, she'd looked up at him, and saw his bright eyes glistening. She had never seen him shed a tear before, and the drops looked like liquid fire as they were held in his eyes. He didn't permit them to fall, but still he felt them. Kathryn had reached for him, and silently leaned against his foreleg. They'd stayed together, simply holding each other until the dawn had swept them away.

Kathryn had once thought her life of seclusion and exclusion from her own race due to her curse had been the worst punishment imaginable. But now, with the knowledge that she couldn't sustain life inside of her, something that she'd taken for granted as something every woman was born with the ability to do… it destroyed her inside. She couldn't take anymore, she knew that if she lost another child, it would be the end of her sanity. So, she forbade herself from falling pregnant again, hope final leaving her. Smaug had been disappointed that the opportunity had passed them by, but agreed; he couldn't watch Kathryn destroy herself over this.

Years passed and Kathryn managed to heal, though she never forgot. Six years passed, and she had thought it all to be forgotten as nothing more than a memory. But then, a few months ago, once more by accident, Kathryn had discovered she was pregnant once again. It had terrified her.

For hours into the night, she and Smaug had argued over what they were going to do. Kathryn was terrified, knowing that she wouldn't allow herself to survive if this too ended in tragedy. They knew the risks, they knew the likely outcome, but they had little choice. For the first three months, the both of them had been walking on eggshells as they tried to do everything they could to make sure their baby was safe. Kathryn rested most days, but still got enough exercise to be healthy, Smaug brought her more than enough food, and it seemed that everything was defying their previous expectations. Their unborn child remained strong and grew quickly. When Kathryn's disturbing visions in her dreams began a month ago, she'd been terrified that the rush of Raw Magic would kill her children inside her. But nothing of the sort occurred. Smaug and Kathryn were still apprehensive and ever so careful about all the things that could go wrong, but even now, they dared to hope…

With that hope, came all the excitement and joy that they had wanted to feel but had been denied three times before. Smaug was of course proud and cocky that his child would be born to carry his legacy as a mighty fire-drake like himself. Kathryn wasn't so sure, as their babe would be half human due to her blood, and kept questioning him if their babe would be born with scales or flesh. She found it rather unsettling to think she would have to push out sharp talons that could slice her to ribbons. Smaug had once asked if she would try and transform into her own dragon-form when birthing to make sure their young were dragons. That had almost made Kathryn explode with anger, and had started a screaming match between them. Kathryn knew such a transformation would destroy her child and would not risk it for the sake of Smaug's vanity. Though the dragon had been just as adamant that she didn't know such a thing would occur. They'd managed to settle on the agreement to disagree.

And that brought their story quite nicely to the present. Kathryn smiled sadly. It had been a long journey through heartache and misery to get to this moment, and she had a feeling that the worst wasn't over. Call it a Seer's instinct. Pondering on the darkness that Smaug had described earlier, she wished for a moment that her babe wasn't coming at all, that it would stay inside her, hidden and safe from this very cruel world.

She finished carving up what she wanted from the boar. "Do you want to finish this?" she asked Smaug as she gestured with her bloodied knife towards the carcass.

Smaug glanced over, his nostrils twitching at the scent of blood, before he laid back down on the bed lazily. "No. Preserve it in however a fashion you mortals employ."

"That whale is keeping you satisfied."

"Indeed," he murmured as he trailed his tongue along the edges of his sharp teeth. "I'll have to look for another in a few weeks."

"We could use the blubber for candles?"

"What need have you for candles when you have dragon-fire?" He summoned the fire from within his stomach, light glowing between his scales as it passed up his throat to come shooting out of his mouth. Kathryn instinctively ducked, though the flames were directed at the high ceiling. Constricting his throat, the great dragon extinguished the fire.

Kathryn sneezed on the soot in the air, and looked up at him with a deadpan expression. "O Smaug, you never fail to impress."

Smaug eyed her. "Watch that clipped tongue, my dear Kathryn. You know better than to laugh at a live dragon."

"Of course."

But Smaug was no longer listening. His head snapped around to look at the entrance to the tunnel, his nostrils flared wide, his eyes glowing. Kathryn caught onto the heavy tension that pressed down over the chamber as Smaug's good mood evaporated. She stood, edging closer towards him, her stomach doing flips with nerves.

"What is it?" she asked quietly as she edged closer to him. But the dragon seemed oblivious to her. His lips curled back to reveal his fangs as he growled. He stood and stormed out of the cave, Kathryn watched him go. "Smaug?"

She followed, bracing herself against the wall of the tunnel as she climbed the incline of the tunnel up towards the surface. Due to her condition, she became quickly exhausted, but her racing heart dumped a load of adrenaline into her veins to give her the strength to continue. Ahead of her, Smaug stopped half in the tunnel and half on the large clifftop just outside of the cave-mouth. Kathryn walked between his legs until she could see. But Smaug wasn't paying attention to her, his focus was on the intruder in front of him.

"You!" he hissed.

"Who is it–?"

Kathryn broke off when her eyes came upon the lone figure standing at the edge of the cliff, looking at her with a kind and friendly smile. He was an old man dressed in robes of grey, a long grey beard trailing down to his belt, his long greying hair flowing past his shoulders. He had a pointed hat on his head that defied the wind that threatened to carry it away, and he held a long wooden staff in one hand. Kathryn's purple eyes blinked open wide in astonishment as she looked at the familiar figure before her.

"Gandalf?"

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 ** **A/N: Review please!****


	3. Chapter 3 - An Unexpected Proposition

****Author's Note:**** ** **I hope you enjoy this and a big thank you to everyone that has reviewed, followed, favourited this story.****

 ** **Please don't forget to leave a review at the end!****

* * *

Chapter 3 – An Unexpected Proposition -

 _"Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards. For they are subtle and quick to anger."_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

Gandalf smiled broadly. He stood on the edge of the cliff outside their cave entrance. Kathryn couldn't understand how on earth he'd managed to get there as there were no paths or ways to easily climb that cliff. But the old man was just there as if he'd appeared out of thin air.

His voice was cheery as he stepped towards her. "Ah, Kathryn, my dear, so good to see you."

Smaug stomped a foot in between Kathryn and Gandalf, a hiss slowly erupting out of his gigantic chest. The wizard wisely stopped in his tracks.

The dragon curled his lip and narrowed his eyes. "He who believes that he can waltz into a dragon's lair, unannounced, has a death wish."

"Oh, come now, Smaug," Gandalf said good naturedly. "You're not exactly the easiest serpent to get a hold of. And you should know that wizards never arrive when they are expected."

"Then wizards should learn some manners when concerned with dragons."

Kathryn stepped around Smaug's leg, rolling her eyes as she brought the conversation to focus. "Gandalf, what are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"I must commend the pair of you," Gandalf said as he nodded to her. "You covered your tracks fairly well. It was only through mere chance that I happened to find you – due in large part to spotting Smaug on my way here."

"What is your business, magician?" Smaug snapped.

Gandalf's eyes became steely cold as he glared up at the red dragon. He pointed his staff at him. "Do not insult me, Smaug, for I am no conjurer of cheap tricks. As you yourself should well remember."

Smaug growled.

Kathryn chose that moment to step forward and relieve the building tension. "What is it you want of me, Gandalf?"

"Actually, I came in search of both of you," Gandalf said, a more professional manner coming over him. "There is an urgent matter that I must discuss with you. It is of the utmost importance."

"No. Leave." Smaug said immediately.

Kathryn began, "Smaug–"

Gandalf finished. "Be reasonable–"

"I am. You made your request, I denied it. That was politeness." His golden eyes blazed in warning as he narrowed them on the wizard. "If I have to repeat myself, I will not be so generous…"

Gandalf saw the very evident threat in the dragon's words and decided not to test him. Believing himself the victor, Smaug turned to saunter back into his cave dismissively. He thought the threat to his stability was over. Now he would give it the greatest insult that could be dealt: to be ignored. But then, the wizard's voice stopped him in his footsteps.

"It's not working, is it?"

"What?" Smaug looked back over his shoulder at Gandalf. "Speak clearly, old fool."

"Hiding," he said, a knowing look in his grey eyes. "You can feel it, can't you. He's closing in every day."

"What do you mean?" Kathryn asked.

"The visions are worse, aren't they."

"How do you know?"

"My presence here concerns you just as much as it is for business."

There was a tense silence. Until Smaug eventually broke it with a frustrated growl. "Very well."

Kathryn could feel Smaug anger at letting someone into their den, it must have gone against every instinct in his body. The walk down the cave tunnel was an awkward one, with Kathryn and Gandalf following behind the seething dragon. His ire seemed to emanate in a heat wave that poured out of him, growing with every step.

When they reached the main chamber, Gandalf positioned himself in one of the few seats they owned. Smaug struggled to repress a growl when the wizard made himself right at home, lighting his pipe and letting the soothing sent of tobacco waft around the room. The wizard seemed perfectly happy to ignore the dragon that was glaring murderously down at him.

Kathryn placed a gentle hand on her mate's foreleg. His gaze snapped down to her. She gave him a small yet grateful smile, to sooth him with thanks for his efforts. He responded by immediately curling around her in a wide circle. The message was clear. Though Kathryn could see and speak to Gandalf from where she was sat, there was still a wall of scales between them. To Smaug, the wizard was not welcome.

They waited patiently (though for Smaug, rather __impatiently__ ) for Gandalf to begin.

"It's begun in the east," he said, his tone deep and ominous. "Massive gatherings of Orcs and all foul creatures have been migrating to the borders of Mordor. The fires on the east of Gondor have been lit. There is no doubt of it. Sauron is making his return."

Smaug snorted. "A bold accusation."

"It is more than an accusation. A poison is sweeping into this world, a dark shadow that will not cease until it eclipses all goodness. And it is gathering strength with each day."

Kathryn shivered as she remembered her dreams. It felt too eerily close to what Gandalf was describing. She shifted in her seat, hand drifting protectively to her stomach. Gandalf's eyes landed on her.

"I know you've seen it, Kathryn. The visions haunt your dreams."

She wrung her hands, the confession already on the tip of her tongue. "I can't stop it. Even the ones of Fankil and Morgoth will not cease. How do I escape it?"

"I'm afraid you can't," Gandalf sighed regretfully. "The dark magic of Sauron and Morgoth calls to your own, with or without their conscious effort, I cannot say. The only way this will end is–"

"With his death." She finished for him.

"Did you not banish the shadow from Dol Goldur?" Smaug asked.

"We believed we did. But all it was, was a reprieve. The calm before the storm. Sauron was testing the waters. Now, he is prepared and ready for a fight."

"His efforts are in vain. All know that he cannot return without the use of the One-Ring. Morgoth is our bigger concern."

"I'm afraid you're wrong, Smaug. Those two problems are one and the same."

Kathryn leaned forward, a ball of dread forming in her stomach. "Gandalf? What do you mean?"

The wizard's eyes shifted between the two of them. They lingered the longest on Smaug, narrowing suspiciously for a moment. When he eventually answered, it was slow and careful. "Very recently… the One-Ring… was found."

Kathryn stiffened. Every muscle in her body was frozen, every hair standing on end. A memory of a dream came floating back to her. A dark and maddening pulse of power, a shadow with the touch of ice. It seeped out into the world and sucked away all life and goodness. It was the power of cruelty, of domination, of hate, and it had terrified her all those years ago, as it terrified her now. It took her a moment to regain control of her heartbeat and focus again on what Gandalf was saying.

"I dare not tell you where, but it is our only chance to defeat this evil once and for all. Believe it or not, you two are now tied to this more than anyone. I believe the One-Ring is vital to Morgoth's return."

"How?" she tried to pretend her voice didn't shake when she blurted her question.

"Sauron poured into it all his hatred, his malice, his power, his very soul into that ring. It is one of the most powerful objects in this world, able to control all of the rings of power. Sauron has been searching for the other rings for years. Imagine if he had the One-Ring to rule them… The combined might and power could be the key to unlocking the Door of Night."

"How do you know this?"

"I don't. It is mere speculation. But Fankil has not set himself apart from Sauron, as far as we know. So we must assume that they could be working together. If so, this may be why."

Kathryn swallowed a lump in her throat. "So you want us to fight him?"

Gandalf sighed tiredly. "Not directly – I would never ask that of you. But we will need your help in this fight against evil, a last true alliance, between __all__ free-peoples."

Smaug's answer was immediate. "No."

"Smaug–" Gandalf tried to say but was cut off short with Smaug's insistent snort.

"No. Absolutely not."

"But you must consider–"

"In case it has slipped your notice, Wizard, I will not put my mate and young at such risk. Fight your own war. I will not stupidly risk my own possessions for a worthless battle."

Gandalf looked to Kathryn desperately. "Kathryn, surely you can see why we must do this?"

"Gandalf, I… I'm not so sure," came her conflicted answer. "I want to help, truly, I do. But… to do this, we would reveal ourselves to Sauron. We aren't ready for that."

"He will find you eventually, whether you're ready then, or not."

"I know, but Gandalf, look at me." She gestured down to her swollen stomach. "I'm with child, I can't be putting a baby at risk like that. I wish I could do something… but I can't."

"But you can," he stressed, leaning forward. His eyes were pleading with her, begging her, insisting with her. She found it hard to look at him, her insides twisting each way with indecision. "Please, at least come to Rivendell."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Rivendell?"

"We are holding a meeting. Representatives of every race will be there to discuss what we must do to vanquish Sauron. At least come to the council of Lord Elrond, hear what we have to say, and then decide."

"That would not be wise," said Smaug. "I went through a lot of trouble to convince the world I was dead. I cannot imagine these representatives would be overly keen to see me."

Gandalf hummed thoughtfully as he puffed on his pipe. "You could always come disguised. No one would expect your human form."

"It matters not. Our answer is 'no'."

"Think on it," he murmured, seeing he was getting nowhere. Kathryn felt a stab of guilt shoot through her. Gandalf stood, placing his pipe back in his robes as he gathered his things to go. "This war is not some skirmish, you know. This is the war to end all wars. It will come for everything and everyone, sooner or later. Not even here in the east, will it be safe. And who knows… this may be your only chance to set things right." With his last words, his eyes lingered on Smaug. When the dragon did nothing but curl his lip, the wizard tipped his hat to them and walked away. "Think on it."

They watched him leave, and even when he was out of Kathryn's sight, she knew that Smaug's eyes were constantly following the wizard. She knew when he was truly gone, for Smaug's shoulders relaxed considerably. Watching her mate, she wondered briefly if he was feeling her guilt at not doing anything to help. But that was a ridiculous notion to consider.

Smaug must have caught her staring, for he simply said, "Don't say it."

"I wasn't going to, but–"

"Don't."

"You know it's the right thing to do."

"No I do not." He snapped his eyes down at her, and she was surprised to see that his patience was already close to the breaking point. "I see it as a foolhardy decision made by panicked sheep blindly running for any escape."

She tried to keep her voice level and calm. "You heard Gandalf, this will be our problem sooner or later."

"No, we're staying out of this. I am not putting you in any danger."

"We won't be in danger."

He snorted. "With your mortal luck, that's all that ever happens."

"We could at least attend the meeting," she folded her arms, finding it increasingly difficult rather quickly to not show her frustrations.

"And if it is a trap?"

"I know Lord Elrond, I trust him."

"You will forgive me, if I am not so forthcoming with elves," Smaug tone was dripping with condescension. "We're not going anywhere. We're staying home and we will survive. Even if we must burrow down or move from place to place. We will wait it out."

"And what if there's something we could've done?" she pressed.

"I'm sure they'll get alone perfectly fine without us."

"For goodness sake, Smaug!" She practically shouted. Smaug opened his mouth to fire back at her, but she spoke over him. "We can at least attend the meeting! We can know what we're up against, learn what is coming. We can still refuse and then come right back home. We have nothing to lose!"

He was about to shout at her again, but paused and slowly closed his mouth. He'd expected mindless sentimentality from her. But her logical reasoning left him out of sorts with how to respond. He still didn't want to go, that much was obvious. But from the look on Kathryn's face, it was evident that she was not going to give up this argument either. Smaug had learned early on that it was sometimes easier to go along with certain things Kathryn wanted just to make life easier.

Besides, as even Kathryn had put it, they would go, attend the meeting and come back. He would still get his own way.

Eventually, he growled. "Fine."


	4. Chapter 4 - The Valley of Imladris

Chapter 4 – The Valley of Imladris –

 _"Master Elrond abode in Imladris, and he gathered there many Elves, and other folk of wisdom and power from among all the kindreds of Middle-earth, and he preserved through many lives of Men the memory of all that had been fair; and the house of Elrond was a refuge for the weary and the oppressed, and a treasury of good council and wise lore."_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Silmarillion

* * *

The journey to Rivendell took them only a few short days. Despite the fact that they would have arrived early, the pair had both decided that it was in their best interests to be there before the council was held. Smaug saw it as an advantageous opportunity to sniff out the territory before he was cornered by the various races he so despised. Kathryn saw it as giving herself the needed time to catch up with a long lost friend.

Tucked safely in Smaug's claws, Kathryn was shielded from the worst of the wind and weather. Wrapped in thick travelling clothes and furs she'd made herself – she'd perfected the art of sewing over the course of sixty years – she was kept warm. Her belly didn't bother her for the entire journey.

Smaug was still in a sulk over the decision. Kathryn could tell by the fact that when he chose to talk it was always in clipped tones, and his footsteps were heavier then they ought to be, like a child stamping his foot. Kathryn did her best to ignore him and was content to wait until he finally got over his own temper. Though knowing him, that wouldn't be any time soon.

Wildlife had grown hard to catch, though Smaug never finished his hunt until he'd conquered the challenge and finally brought something back. As they'd moved on from camp to camp, they saw the unrest that was seeping into the world for themselves. It wasn't anything one could see, not this far west, at least. Instead, it was something very subtle. In the way the insects seemed disorganised or even absent all together. The way a flower's scent seemed off. The way trees leaked a black sap that poisoned its very heartwood. Neither Smaug nor Kathryn had to say the answer for this affliction. It was as Gandalf had described it: the great evil that came for them all was poisoning the very world.

Eventually, the finally reached the foot of the Misty Mountains, and with Kathryn guiding the way, the finally came to their destination. The valley tucked away in a hidden pass on the mountainside, rivers and waterfalls cascading through the palaces and down around the streets. Glittering windows and marble paths made it sparkle in the daylight. Power and beauty radiated off of every stone and beam. It was Rivendell, the house of Lord Elrond.

They didn't want to draw too much attention. But even just passing over the valley gave rise to panic. The elves lived long lives and even longer memories. They knew the shape of a dragon as it soared above their homes. They recognised the gust of the hurricane wind that was stirred beneath his wings which threatened to uproot their trees. Their cries of panic and orders of defence had Smaug curling his lip, ready for a fight. Kathryn placed her arm upon his fingers, willing for him to be soothed.

He landed just outside the valley, for he knew full well that he would never be allowed near Rivendell in his true form – not without bloodshed. Kathryn would've preferred that to not happen. So Smaug quickly set to work on changing his shape once they landed. Kathryn sat by him throughout the process; heard every bone break and reshape, every muscle tear and reconnect. By the time he was done, the sun had begun to set, and it was time for them to move. Dressing, refusing to look weak even though Kathryn knew he was sore from the change, they moved inside to the valley.

The Elves weren't stupid. They saw the strangers approaching and instead of thinking them two humans, they could feel the __strangeness__ about them, particularly in one of them. It only took one good look at Smaug's eyes for them to know that he was not as he appeared and drew their weapons. Kathryn could safely say that she had hoped for a better start.

Smaug stood in front of her, lips peeled back in a silent snarl. Despite his diminished stature, he was still as fast and strong as any elf. His fingers curled around Kathryn's wrist behind him, a possessive hold that he seemed to not be aware of. A reflex to assure himself subconsciously that she was there, safe, and not stolen from him. Kathryn ducked back beneath her hood, heart starting to race at the thought of violence so early in this journey. What had made her think this was a good idea?

" _ _Ya naa lle? Mani uma lle merna__?" barked an elf in the front.

Smaug did not answer, though Kathryn knew that he understood them perfectly. He merely glared ahead at them with murderous intent.

" _ _Kwentra lye__! __Ya naa lle? Mani uma lle merna?"__ the elf shouted.

"I yield to no mortal," Smaug growled out. "The next elf who presumes to command me, I shall rip his insolent tongue from his mouth."

"Smaug!" Kathryn hissed.

"I'm giving them a fair warning."

The elves looked disturbed. Some of them at least spoke the common tongue, and those who did not, or were rusty in it, were soon informed of what he'd said by the others. A wave of anger washed over the soldiers. Though one couldn't see it directly, for they still had their calm appearance, but Kathryn could feel it.

" _ _Utinu en lokirim__!" snapped the captain. From the way Smaug's shoulders tightened, Kathryn guessed that what he'd said hadn't been pleasant. " _ _Kwentra–"__

" _ _Nikerym__!" shouted a voice.

Kathryn's purple eyes widened as the guards parted ways down the middle to allow someone through. He was tall, his long dark hair fell to his elbows, a circlet of silver upon his brow. Intricately lavish robes adorned him, but he wore them without the flouncing arrogance of most lords. Yet despite his more diplomatic attire, he had the worn face, the old eyes, of a warrior.

A grin broke across Kathryn's face instantly as she recognised him. "Elrond!"

The Elf Lord looked past the strange man to the woman hidden behind furs and a hood. He could not see her clearly, but the shine of her purple eyes was unmistakable.

"Kathryn…" he murmured. Only by his eyes could someone tell that he was surprised. He turned to his guards momentarily. " _ _N'ndengina ho__."

It took the guards a mere moment of hesitation, before they straightened and bowed to their liege lord. They stood to attention, armour glittering in the evening light. They could've been statues, their discipline was that precise. But Kathryn had no attention for them, only Elrond as she swept back her hood and let her red hair come free in the breeze. She pushed past a ruffled Smaug to come towards Elrond.

But Smaug snatched hold of her wrist and held her by his side. She couldn't fight against his strength. He wouldn't even look at her when she glared at him, his eyes only narrowed suspiciously on Elrond. Yet he must've felt her stare, because he turned to look down at her, and their eyes met. She implored him and reassured him all with that stare alone. It took a moment too long, but he released her.

Instantly she swept forward and folded herself into Elrond's waiting arms. Only Kathryn heard Smaug's almost inaudible growl.

" _ _Cormamin lindua ele lle, nae saian luume'__ ," Elrond said quietly. He pulled back and graced Kathryn with one of his small smiles. "Welcome back to Rivendell, Kathryn. The stars have smiled if they guide you back to us."

"I could not refuse an invitation, Lord Elrond," Kathryn said with a warm smile.

Elrond frowned. "Invitation?"

"I am here for the Council?" When Elrond didn't appear to have any clue as to what she was talking about, her frown mirrored his own. "Gandalf told us–"

"Ah." Elrond's expression grew tight with exasperation. " _ _Mithrandir__ works in mysterious ways. Most of the time without consulting me in those mischievous plans of his."

Smaug scoffed. "The lack of organisation skills amongst mortals is insulting."

As if for the first time, Elrond noticed Smaug. But Kathryn knew him to be too observant to have missed him. In either case, it was now that Elrond truly regarded the dragon. At once his eyes were hard, guarded, his whole demeanour cold and closed off. When he spoke, his voice was equally void of weakness. "And welcome to you, Smaug the golden of the blood of Ancalagon…"

Smaug graced him with a condescending smile. "What nice manners from the fair folk."

"For the sake of Kathryn, you are welcome within these halls, Smaug." Elrond declared without missing a beat. Kathryn would've intervened before Elrond offended the dragon – which is never a good move – when he surprised her: "But I ask that you keep the peace whilst you stay. My people are not accustomed to the magnificence of your breed, you see. If you should, I can promise you all the comforts an esteemed guest such as yourself should be entitled to."

Kathryn's eyes bulged. But some small part of her was amused. She had to admit, Elrond definitely knew how to work a dragon: flattery. She could see it working, even now. Smaug's vanity overruled his derision, and like a preening peacock he stood a little taller, a proud glint in his eyes.

"Very well." He gave the smallest nod imaginable.

"Come then," Elrond said. He offered Kathryn his elbow, which she gladly took. "I shall escort you to your chambers."

They moved further into the valley, the guards flanking them on either side. Smaug was a little unsettled by their presence, and gave a small growl for them to keep their weapons at a distance. But He still complied and walked on.

Elrond guided them into the heart of Rivendell, and once again Kathryn was mesmerised by the beauty of the city of waterfalls and woodwork. It was as if the elves had not erected their buildings in opposition of the land, to defy nature, but more so that it had appeared to grow with it. Their skill was unmatched, that much she could be certain. She didn't know if Smaug could appreciate the value of masterwork architecture like he did jewels and gold. But it still felt romantic in sort of way to come to this enchanting place with him, to share this with him.

They were given quarters in the main house of Lord Elrond – a place of highly honoured and esteemed guests. Their chambers were large, spacious and filled with light from many windows and candlelight. The reception room housed a divan and a table lined with food. Their bedroom held a four poster bed that was almost as big as the one back in their cave. Heavy curtains hung, waiting to shut out the world at a moment's notice. A door adjacent lead to a walk-in-wardrobe filled with the finest silk gowns and tunics and robes in all ranges of colour.

Kathryn asked the maidservants for a bath to be drawn – she wanted to wipe away all the hardships of the road. Besides, her feet were beginning to ache. Smaug had not joined her when the hot tub was finally ready. Apparently he was still sulking. Kathryn would've been annoyed with him, except for when she dried herself, he looped a single lock of her dark red hair around a finger fondly. Almost as if it were common of him to do so in any form, he'd leant forward and kissed her forehead. That made her smile, for she knew that all was forgiven.

She then took great pleasure in dressing herself as a lady should. Though Kathryn had never been so vain as to adore fashion (she was more a girl of practicality), but living so many decades with threadbare clothes and heavy, unflattering furs made one appreciate the finer things in life when they found them. She was to meet with Lord Elrond before supper, so she wanted to look her best.

The front of her hair braided from ear to ear, the rest left to hang down her back in loose ruby curls. She chose a straightforward gown, nothing extravagant. A lilac kirtle hung to the floor, with a sweeping deep purple sur-coat that matched her eyes. Her sleeves hugged her upper arms yet billowed out from her elbows to her wrists. With her dragonscale necklace on display across her breast, she was complete.

Elrond awaited her outside her chambers. She slipped out whilst Smaug himself was getting ready after his own bath. She couldn't wait for him, he'd be hours. A dragon's vanity did not hurry for anyone. When finally she saw her host, a smile broke out across her face before she could stop it.

Elrond returned the expression. "I hope I do not seem rude when I say that silks suit you better then furs."

"I would be offended, if I did not also agree that they __feel__ better as well." She chuckled.

" _ _Oio naa elealla alasse', Tharŷliel__ ," he murmured to quietly in elvish.

Kathryn didn't need a translation for that as she took his offered arm. She squeezed it for comfort and laid her head upon his shoulder and sighed.

"It is good to see you again, Elrond."

"And I you." He said as led them away from her chambers and down the many halls. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances. But we must make do with what we are given."

"Indeed." Companionable settled over them then, a peace that did not need to be disturbed by words. But eventually, as they came to the courtyard, Kathryn found that she had to ask. "Is it true, Elrond? Will another great alliance be made amongst the free peoples to fight the enemy of old?"

"That is what we hope for. In truth, I fear it is the only way we shall survive this."

"Do you think it will work?"

"Only time will tell." He murmured gravely.

Kathryn bit her lip. She prayed to all of the Valor that Elrond was right.

He glanced at her, a soft twinkle in his eye. "But I seem to recall that it is you who possess the power to see into the future. Perhaps you would save us all a great amount of time and tell us how things will play out."

She gave him a look. "You know it doesn't work like that."

"I know. I would never ask it of you anyway. Forgive my poor jest."

"There's nothing to forgive."

"Tell me truly, Kathryn," Elrond said, suddenly very serious as he brought them to a stop. He turned to face her, and Kathryn was surprised by the commanding aura that leaked out of him. "Are you well?"

"I am. Or, as well as I can be." She nodded truthfully. Absentmindedly, she played with her fingers as she tried to find the right words to explain. "The years have been… turbulent. Sometimes they've been good, other times bad. Forces beyond my control have forced me into a life I never imagined living. Yet strangely, I cannot think how else I would want to live."

"And the dragon? Does he treat you well?"

"He does." Was her immediate answer. She knew to be careful, one wrong word and Elrond might do something everyone would regret, but she would also not lie. Elves, and Elrond in particular, had a knack for knowing when someone lied. "He is difficult most of the time, but despite his temper and his vicious streak, I know in his heart that he cares for me. As much as a dragon is able to care for anything."

"I had to admit that I was more than a little shocked when I heard of your relation to him many years ago."

Kathryn winced. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to lie. But back when I first came here, I feared Smaug would come after me at a moment's notice. I'd thought that the less you knew, the safer you'd be."

"Your heart has always been too gentle." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she relaxed. But then his eyes drifted down, and she tensed again. "I see also… that you are with child."

Her heart was suddenly beating a little harder than before. It took her a moment too long to answer. "I am."

"Is it his?"

"It is."

"You do realise what this means?"

Kathryn disengaged herself from him. She loved Elrond like a father, but truly he was frustrating her now. She folded her hands in front of herself, placed unconsciously in front of her swollen belly. She gave him a look, as if she were the adult, and he the stubborn child. She didn't even think to mind her manners.

"Elrond, for the past ten years, Smaug and I have been trying to have children of our own. But… fate decided to deny us that one simple joy. Now, I have a chance of loving something so completely, so devotedly, the way only a mother can. Smaug has told me that this will be the first dragon born into the world in hundreds of years. There is joy in that, I know it. But I also know that many would see it with disdain and hatred and fear. Dragons have made their enemies – Smaug even more so. The spawn of the dragon-dread would not be well met in the world. I know very well the consequences of my actions. And I am prepared for them."

The elf lord blinked, as if he too had been slightly unprepared for her light scolding. But then his lips twitched upwards and he was well again. "Then that is all I can ask. But I do wish you all the happiness in the world."

She smiled back at him. "Thank you."

They made their way onwards, until Elrond brought them to the small building that made up their infirmary. Once inside, Kathryn was curious to see a little creature, a hobbit, lying unconscious in a bed, and seemingly under the spell of a fever. His brow was soaked with sweat, and he fidgeted in his sleep, muttering in low tones.

Already in the room was Smaug, stood watch over the hobbit from the other side. His expression was curious, a frown creased his brow, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle about the hobbit from just looking at him. He was better dressed, and Kathryn had to smile to herself in amusement at his colours. Deep red trousers over a golden undershirt. A scarlet tunic glittered with long sleeves. Even when human, he could not completely shed his dragon colours.

"Finery suits you well, Lord of wind and fire," Elrond said to the dragon politely.

The look of disdain in Smaug's eyes was barely suppressed. "I see you have accompanied Kathryn this evening. How generous of you."

"Smaug," Kathryn said quickly, but her eyes held a warning. "Elrond and I were just catching up."

"Kathryn came to stay with us in Rivendell many years ago." Elrond nodded and stepped further into the room. "When she was still young and new to the world. But even then it was clear she'd seen much torment."

Smaug narrowed his eyes, and Kathryn was sure that if he still had his fire, he would've burned the elf to ash for merely breathing. "I __thank__ you for your assistance in guiding her in my absence. But I am here now. She will not need you quite so devotedly."

"As always, one cannot match a dragon in his judgement of matters. But this is for her to decide."

Kathryn rolled her eyes. __Save me from the idiocy of men!__

"Elrond." She interrupted quickly, and perhaps a little too loudly. Both males turned to look at her, and she gestured to the invalid hobbit on the bed. "Who is this?"

"That is a hobbit, by the name of Frodo Baggins." Elrond explained and stood at the foot of the bed. "Gandalf sent word that we were to expect him… he is essential for the council."

"What ails him?"

"My daughter, Arwen, found him under attack by the Ring Wraiths, servants of Sauron. He was stabbed with a Morgul Blade."

Kathryn's eyes widened. "Shouldn't that mean death?"

"Our healers were able to save him in time. But his fever hangs over him. I hope he recovers quickly."

For his part, Smaug listened to the conversation with keen interest, but kept his visual attention on the little creature in the bed. By the youthful face, it looked to be no more than a child – it certainly was no bigger than a human child. But at the thought of the dark powers that inhabited a wound such as that, it made him shiver. His hand drifted to his chest and rubbed circles over his head, right where a thick, knotted black scar lay. For just a moment, he noted the similarities between himself and the sick hobbit. They had both been touched by the darkness, and it had left its mark on them, and would forever more.

But then he paused. Something was nagging at the back of him mind, and it wasn't for a few moments until he realised what was so important. The hobbit's scent it was very familiar, yet still different. But he still recognised it as the Barrel-rider's! Could this be a relative of some sort?

"Baggins?" He asked Elrond rather suddenly as he came back to the present.

"Yes, a name of great standing amongst the hobbit folk." Elrond nodded. "The most famous of which being Bilbo Baggins. He is staying with us as well."

Smaug felt a dash of excitement at the hope that this Bilbo could be his long eluded thief. "He is?"

"Yes. He returns to write his book."

When Elrond turned back to talk to Kathryn, Smaug took the opportunity to slip out of the room. Once outside, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He might not have his true nose, but his senses were still highly more acute than that of any other mortal. All he had to do was wade through the many layers of different pheromones until he found the one he was looking for.

* * *

He tracked down that old familiar scent that had been burned into his memory from so long ago. As the evening light swept in over Rivendell, Smaug continued his search up to one of the guest rooms that overlooked one of the most appealing views of the valley. But he paid it no mind. The door was not locked, and Smaug silently stepped in with all the stealth of a shadow.

It wasn't until he reached the study that he finally found his quarry.

An old little creature stood slumped over a desk, attempting to write in a journal. His hair was white, his skin wrinkled and flesh hung off of his frame. He looked frail, for his hands shook ever so slightly, and there seemed to be something confused in those honey brown eyes. A blanket was draped across his shoulders and a walking stick leaned against the desk. It took Smaug a moment to recognise him. He didn't know if Hobbits lived this long, but he couldn't deny that he was a little disappointed to see him so… old. That almost took all the fun out of it.

 _ _Almost__.

There were no other doors into the room. Just a window with a very long drop below. Perfect. Smaug stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a loud slam. The hobbit jumped, startled, and spun in his seat to look at the one who had disturbed him so loudly.

Smaug took a slow step forward, a predator on the prowl, a cruel smile distorting his features.

"Hello, hobbit."

Bilbo – if that was his name – gulped a little. He reached for his cane and shakily stood. "Who are you?"

"Such a strange creature you are. A hobbit," Smaug said in curious tones. "I had never encountered something of the like before – but I suppose that is why you were chosen."

"What are you talking about? I don't believe we've met."

"Could I have left such a small impression? I had thought we were getting along famously."

"I… I don't remember…" Bilbo's hand drifted to his temple and he winced. When he looked back at Smaug – who had taken another large step closer – his eyes were sad and imploring. "Please, sir, you'll have to forgive me, my memory's not what it once was. I get headaches rather easily now…"

Smaug nodded but continued as if Bilbo had said nothing. "Always with your good manners and pleasant speech. Your visit was an interesting one. I would make a note to invite you for a cup of tea. You were good to listen to with your honeyed words… even if your intentions were not as appealing."

"Please, m-might I have a name to call you?"

"You called me many a pretty name. Though I did find it quite insulting that you refused to give me yours. It left me with quite the puzzle, you see. Lucky for you, I liked the puzzle – oh! That was what you called yourself, wasn't it? Mr lucky number."

"Mr lucky…" Bilbo trailed off, and Smaug saw the first little shadow of fear in his eyes.

"But of course, my memory slips now and again. I remember I called you by the name I found you with. I admit, I might have come up with something a little more imaginative then 'thief in the shadows'."

"Thief in the…" Bilbo trailed off. And then he looked at Smaug. __Really__ looked at him. He saw the bright flame-yellow eyes that almost shone in the darkness. He saw the malicious grin that was all too familiar. The hobbit gasped and tried to back away but his hip hit the desk. He was as white as a sheet as he let out a strangled noise. "You!"

"Yes." Smaug's words were pleasant whilst his hands were anything but. He grabbed hold of the old hobbit's shirt front and slammed him down against his desk. An ink pot fell with a rattle, staining the wood black like blood. Bilbo whimpered in pain, even as Smaug grinned over him. "Me."

Bilbo spluttered in terror. "B-b-but, how?!"

"A hunter is always patient. I've waited years for this. I'm amazed you managed to last this long – and in such good condition. I thought you would die before I finally found you. Thank you for your consideration."

He raised his fist and with a few harsh breaths, attempted to control the flow of magic that filtered into him from his golden bond with Kathryn. The bones in his hand popped and cracked as they shifted. His skin stung as scales burst through the skin. His nails grew into wicked talons. Until at last, a claw was held over Bilbo, deadly intent clear in the moonlight.

The hobbit quailed into pathetic cries. "Oh! Great and terrible Smaug! Mercy!"

Smaug's grin was gone, replaced by a vicious sneer. "You evaded me once or twice before. Yet your power seems to have left you. How convenient for me."

He drew his hand back, ready to strike.

"It wasn't me!" Bilbo shrieked quickly. "It was my–"

Smaug paused. "Your what?"

"The precious!" Bilbo rushed out as if he could no longer keep this secret to himself.

Smaug frowned. "Precious?"

"No! You can't have it! Greedy wormy-thing you is! Can't have it! Mine! My precious!"

With more strength then Smaug would've dared believe the old hobbit to possess, he threw the dragon's hold off of him and stood. Smaug took an involuntary step back when he saw the mad, bloodshot gleam in Bilbo's eyes. Dark smudges had suddenly appeared in his soft flesh, and every move was twitchy and erratic. He was the very picture of madness.

As if he completely forgot that Smaug was there, Bilbo began to pace the room. His cane struck the floor with a loud __thunk-thunk-thunk__. He sniffed the air, as if he were hunting for something. His eyes moved everywhere but appeared to see nothing. Smaug kept his distance as if it were a disease he was in fear of catching.

"It's here!" Bilbo was rasping to himself in a voice that didn't seem to belong to him. "I know! I can hear its pretty song – so pretty, it calls for its Bilbo… my precious, sings. You hear it? Mine! My precious…" he swayed, as if dizzy. His hand fluttered shakily to his temple and he groaned. "Oh, precious… my head hurts…"

Smaug was tempted to attack, to gut his enemy whilst he was vulnerable. But his disgust stayed his hand. The hobbit was deranged, mentally unstable, and it disgusted him. Where was the sport in killing a man that couldn't even register what you were, that death was finally upon him? There was no fun in that! And oh, did he want Bilbo to suffer for all the grievances he had caused Smaug so many years ago. Yet here he was, right in front of Smaug, fit for the slaying, yet he'd robbed Smaug of even that small pleasure. It burned him with fury to watch an enemy slip away.

But then he reconciled himself with a cruel thought…

"Be left with the prison of your own design, with the poison of your own making, thief-in-the-shadows." Smaug spat coldly. He straightened, but Bilbo was too busy nursing his aching head to notice. The dragon felt his fury grow, but he beat it back. "Once again, you've denied me the satisfaction of killing an enemy. But I know death will come for you. It comes for all of us. Especially the insane."

And so he turned on his heel and left the whimpering wreck to his own demise. The enemy was discarded, but far from out of sight. That was the thought that kept Smaug going as he left. He only paused momentarily at the door, his back to the hobbit.

"Enjoy your tormented world, __Bilbo Baggins__. I shall certainly enjoy watching you slowly die."

Then, he closed the door.

* * *

 ** **Translations:****

 _ _Ya naa lle? Mani uma lle merna__? – Who are you? What do you want?

 _ _Kwentra lye –__ Tell us!

 _ _Utinu en lokirim__ – Son of snakes!

 _ _Nikerym__! – Captan!

 _ _N'ndengina ho –__ Don't kill him.

 _ _Cormamin lindua ele lle, nae saian luume'__ – my heart sings to see thee, it has been too long

 _ _Oio naa elealla alasse'__ – Ever is thy sight a joy


	5. Chapter 5 - A Fellowship Formed

Chapter 5 – A Fellowship Formed –

 _"It is perilous to study too deeply the arts of the Enemy, for good or for ill. But such falls and betrayals, alas, have happened before."_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

"His strength returns." Elrond smiled proudly from the balcony of his study. Gandalf stood beside him and the pair watched the young dark haired hobbit reunite with his friends and family.

"That wound will never fully heal," Gandalf murmured regretfully. For only one who had known Frodo all his life as the wizard had, could see the slight discoloration under his eyes, the way his smile already didn't seem as bright as before. "He will carry it the rest of his life…"

"Yet to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to it's evil."

"It is a burden he should never have had to bear." The grey wizard shook his head. It shamed him to think of how he had used such an innocent so. "We can ask no more of Frodo."

"And do what with it? Keep it here? __Gandalf__." Elrond turned and fixed his companion with a stern expression. "The enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the east, his Eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Sauruman – you tell me – has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."

Fingers clenched around a pipe until the knuckles went white with anger. "His treachery runs deeper then you know. When I saw his dark magic, I saw his eye search for Kathryn. He has taken the knowledge I shared with him in confidence and has given it to Sauron."

"Then it is a good thing you convinced her to come here, where she will not be where he expects." The elf lord paused, his disapproving eyes in the distant direction of the rooms that were currently occupied by his most unusual guests. "Though I'm not so sure why you had to invite __him__."

"I have spoken with the Lady Galadriel, and she and I are in agreement: it is better to have one as powerful as Smaug – no matter his trustworthiness – on our side, rather than with the enemy."

"He will not join us. Always, he and his kind have cared for naught but their own selfish wants. They were forged by evil, mastered by cruelty, they know nothing else." Elrond stepped closer to Gandalf, as if his proximity would convince his friend of the truth in his words. "You play a deadly game, Gandalf, more so now than ever before. Smaug is a force of brutality and savagery."

"Then we shall be in desperate need of him." Gandalf shot back. "Elrond, you have not seen what I saw at Saruman's tower. With foul craft, Saruman has crossed Orcs with Goblin men. He's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. An army that can move in sunlight and can cover a great distance at speed. If we do not have a defence such as Smaug, Saruman will come for the Ring."

"This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the elves. Even with the lone dragon – we do not have the strength to fight both the forces of Mordor __and__ Isengard!"

The elderly wizard could see that the conversation was going nowhere. Frustrated, he growled to himself and paced away from the elf lord. How could no one see but him the dire situation at hand?

"Gandalf… the Ring cannot stay here. This peril belongs to all the people of Middle-Earth, they must decide now how to end it. The time of the elves is over – my people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we've gone? The dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches; they care nothing for the troubles of others. And your dragon would be consumed by its power within moments."

"There is more strength in him then you realise. I have seen it." A dirt encrusted nail on the end of a worn and wrinkled finger pointed at the immaculate robes. "Kathryn has been a good influence on him, I do believe that she can change the tide."

"I care for her as well, Gandalf, but we must be realistic. Spare me your speech of the acts of love that will save us."

"If you will not listen to that, then listen to the fact that Smaug is a descendant of Ancalagon himself."

That was enough to make even Elrond pause. To one who had lived as long as he, the shadow of the Great Ancalagon was still just as fresh in his mind's eye. He shook his head, both mystified yet still wary. "Even with such strength in his blood, he will not be able to withstand the Ring."

"Then it is in Men, we must place our hope."

"Men? Men are weak." Elrond snorted derisively. "The race of men is failing, the blood of Nominor is all but spent, it's pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of men the Ring survives… Isildur kept the Ring – the line of Kings is broken. There's no strength left in the world of men. They're scattered, divided, leaderless."

"There is one who could unite them." Gandalf fixed his ever sharp eyes on the elf, the hidden power just beneath the surface. "One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor."

"Well, well, Gandalf. It would seem you bring the lines of two Kings here." Elrond sighed. "But it matters not. He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile."

* * *

Rivendell had been a hubbub of excitement and activity all day. Kathryn had felt it in the servants and the seen the flurry of movement all the way through the sparkling roofs and cobbled streets. In every fleck of water in the air, the whisper of visitors stirred. Obviously she had known of the Council that was to be held tomorrow, it was why she had come. But the apprehension in the very air bled into her. It made her jumpy and unable to keep still. Smaug had blatantly hated the entire idea of not being able to know who these strangers were he was to be interacting with. In fact, the entire time they'd been here he'd been in a bad mood. Dragons were not very social creatures after all.

Late into the night, Kathryn couldn't shake the mood from her muscles. Her eyes refused to close, her limbs wouldn't stop fidgeting. And to make matters worse, her child squirmed every half hour inside of her. Even with Smaug snoring beside her in bed, the moon shining through their window to give a tranquil light to the dark room, she couldn't find peace. With no other choice, Kathryn decided to work off her excess energy and sneak away. Smaug had not let her out of his sight for fear that she would run into a stranger (Valar forbid!). She didn't think she would be able to get away with it – Smaug usually awoke at the slightest disturbance. But for some reason, her footfalls did not make him stir, and with a robe draped over her nightgown, she was able to slip away out the door and into the night.

Bare foot, she made her way over bridges and through gardens, wandering the library and through the great halls. Her ankles ached and the small of her back had started to complain, but her core felt refreshed and she could feel the world begin to settle around her. In the silence of the night, where no other stirred, where only dust and moonlight held sway, the stillness helped to calm her.

That was, until she came to hall at the base of a set of stairs. Whispers echoed down to her from a balcony above, and then a loud clatter of metal on stone. Curious, Kathryn clutched her belly in one hand and the banister with the other as she ascended the stairs. Something drew her in, like a fish on a hook. She should have known better, curiosity killed the cat after all. But something deep within her whispered to go on, to climb one more step, to see what awaited beyond.

At the top, she found a statue of a hooded figure which held a large stone slab. On proud display was the many fragments of a great and mighty sword. The hilt of which lay on the floor, having obviously fallen from its pedestal. Stood near a chair not far away, a book discarded on his seat, was a human man. Black hair fell to his shoulders, his jaw cloaked in a small beard that gave his tall and lean body a rather wild appearance. Yet despite his rather ruffian-look, he held himself with an air of sophistication and gentleness that belied it. On the other side of the landing, another man, with lighter hair and more broader physique had his back to them. When his face turned, Kathryn could only see the slight sneer that twisted his lips. When he stormed away into the shadows and out into the night, Kathryn saw the tension leave the gentler man's shoulders.

"Whatever he said," she found herself saying, "don't take heed of it. I learned a long time ago that the pettiness of most men is filled with hot air and little else."

He half turned to regard her, his lips cracked into a lopsided smile. "Should I then be lucky enough to not be considered one of those men?"

"I haven't seen you throw a fit yet, so that is at least one thing in your favour."

He snorted. "Well met, Miss…?"

"Kathryn."

"Kathryn," he whispered her name. He strode forward to greet her, his eyes finally turning to her. "I am–"

Purple met green-blue. Kathryn gasped as she felt a wave of magic sweep over her and pound through her skull like a fierce headache. In a flash, she saw those eyes spread across thousands of years. She saw a king stand against the tide of darkness, a prince fall to greed, and then a line of them, one after the other, passing a crown from hand to hand. Each and every one of them with the same blue-green eyes. Right up until she was brought back to the present to stare into the gaze of the man before her now.

The rush of magic settled down around her. Her knees wobbled, but otherwise Kathryn felt fine. It left her a little breathless. Usually her visions were very overwhelming and taxing on her body. Though they came in various degrees of intensity, never before had she received one so placid and tame as this. It was a marvel. It made her take another look at the man before, and wonder at what it was about him that could cause such a reaction in her – as well as ponder on the information her vision had bestowed on her.

"You are Aragorn, son of Arathorn. The heir to the throne of Gondor…" she murmured breathlessly without even thinking. And then her cheeks burned bright red as she realised __who__ she was talking to and __how__ she'd been talking to him. Quickly, she dropped into a curtsey. "I apologise for my lack of manners, My Lord."

Aragorn sighed tiredly. Almost immediately he reached down to help her up with a hand. "Please, do not belittle yourself so."

After a pause, she took his offer. Gently as he could, he pulled her upwards to her feet. Kathryn's other hand protected her belly, the added weight unbalancing her, the strain on her muscles making the child squirm inside her.

"My apologies," said she. "I have been in the company of Kings before. Their wants and needs for adoration was most… nerve wracking."

"Indeed. It is why I hold no claim over what some call my birth right. I am no King."

The seer cocked her head at that, her eyes narrowed on the man before her with slight suspicion. Perhaps she had been around Smaug for too long. Perhaps she had gotten used to those taking what power they could. For to see this man, who could have an entire race of people under his command, yet deny that power… It was such a foreign and alien concept to her now. Such dignity, such humility. It felt like she'd been kept in a stale-aired basement her entire life and was only now allowed out in the fresh open air of the forest. It was strange, yet refreshing.

Still, there was something in the way he lingered, the way his attention drifted to the sword hilt on the floor. And the way he was desperate to not be obvious about it. She peered a look at the book on the chair. Obviously, he had been here for quite some time.

"You say that, though you sit in the hall where the sword that should be yours now sits. Doesn't that tell you something?"

"You are rather shrewd in your analysis, Miss Kathryn."

She gave a sheepish grimace. "After living with my husband for as long as I have, I think his mannerisms have rubbed off on me."

Aragorn smiled and gestured to her ever so slightly protruding belly. "Does his child add into the equation?"

"Perhaps. I had no idea child bearing would be so taxing."

"Taxing or not, I think you are blessed with such a gift as precious as life – as a future." And then his gaze grew distant and sad and so-vey-tired. It was as if he had lived a hundred years, and was exhausted with enduring the world around him, the life he'd been given. "A funny thing. I wish so often to look to my own future… but cannot move my eyes from the past."

"I spent too long allowing both the past and the future to rule me. I now have no choice but to try to remain in the present."

"We cannot run from either. The memories of what has been haunt us, just as equally as the fear of what is to be."

"I know that is true for me. But it shouldn't be for you." Kathryn told him with a sincerity in her voice that she hadn't felt in a very long time. "You are Isildur's heir. Not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate."

"The same blood still flows in my veins." He turned to her, and she could have sworn she saw his eyes glisten in the moonlight. "The same weakness."

Kathryn didn't know why she was being so open with this man, or why he was confiding in her like this. It was absurd when she thought about it. They had only just met! They didn't know each other, they didn't know anything about each other's lives. Yet that didn't seem to matter. It was as if there was this compulsion to bare all that they were to one another.

She stepped closer towards him, as if to hope her presence as well as her words would give him reassurance. "As someone who knows about fate, I will tell you that nothing – whether it be victory or defeat – is set in stone. Your ' _ _weakness'__ does not define you. The only one who will allow it to, is you."

"I will not risk it."

"If you truly believe that, then pick up that sword, put it back on the mantle, and walk away."

Silence. The night was utterly still. Kathryn found she was even holding her breath. They simply stared at one another, frozen in time as a thousand thoughts and a thousand doubts raced through both of them. Kathryn feared for a moment that she'd overstepped the mark. Had she offended him? Was she pressuring him unnecessarily?

These thoughts made her hastily want to take back her challenge. It was unfair of her to be so hard, to push him if he truly did not want that life. Too many people had done the exact same thing to her; push her to fulfil their expectations, tried to make her seize the power she had at her disposal. She knew what it was to feel that kind of force, and felt shame at having placed that on another, no matter how unwittingly.

She bent to pick up the handle herself, as a way of apology. But at the exact same time, so had Aragorn.

Their fingers brushed in a feathery touch just above the pommel of the sword.

They both gasped as electricity sparked between them. Hair on their arms stood to gooseflesh, a shiver rolled down their spines. Kathryn was familiar with the feeling of magic discharging through her, but for some reason this felt different. It only lasted a moment, but that was enough. She looked up Aragorn's eyes and knew everything around her wasn't the same. This man was important somehow, whether in the straightforward way that she expected or perhaps in some other way she couldn't yet foresee. But she could feel it in her bones… a lot of what was to come in the world hinged on Aragorn, and it was important that she know him. She had no idea why, but it was something she couldn't shake.

Loud footsteps suddenly echoed all around them, and Kathryn felt a familiar heat sweep across the room, though she was sure that she was the only one who felt it. Both she and Aragorn turned and saw Smaug stood at the top of the stairs. His body was half encased in shadow, the brilliant yellow of his eyes the only form of light to shine eerily out of the blackness. His gaze was hard, scrutinizing. It flickered between their still joined hands to their faces.

His voice was cold and serrated. "What is this?"

Kathryn stood as quickly as she was able, and did her best to not give any reaction. Not even to blush or gulp. She had done absolutely nothing wrong, and Smaug was easily made jealous when given no actual reason. "Nothing, I was just…"

He stalked forward until he stood towering beside her. His glare was cold and murderous on Aragorn. The very air around him was heavy with the musk of dragon and heat. Kathryn could feel his draconic presence rising to the surface, and intervened. Her hand rested on his arm, a gentle touch that seeped into his warmth. It broke his focus enough to click his eyes back to her.

"You should be in bed," he said at last. "How often have I told you not to move without my accompanying you?"

"I did not think–"

"Evidently not." He muttered. His hand slid across her arm and wrapped around her back. Gently but firmly, he guided her back towards the stares, very clear that their nightly exploration was done for now. Looking over his shoulder, he said to Aragorn with clear animosity: "I will have her back now."

But the human took it in stride and paid the dragon-in-disguise no mind. Instead he looked straight at Kathryn and gave her a respectful nod. "Another time then, Kathryn."

"Farewell, Aragorn…" she said.

He turned from them and stopped. Before Kathryn could be completely led away, she spotted the human stop and stare at the doorway down the hall. A figure clad in white with raven dark hair falling all around her. She was a vision of angelic beauty. Her smile was like the moon, curved into a dazzling smile only for the man who quickly swept towards her as if nothing else in the world existed. Her eyes glittered like stares as she stared into those pools of blue-green that reflected back all the adoration and devotion in all the world.

Kathryn smiled and allowed Smaug to whisk her away.

* * *

At noon the next day, the Council of Lord Elrond was finally summoned. Kathryn made sure that she and Smaug arrived first so as not to garner attention with their entrance after everyone else. But in all honesty, this felt just as exposing. Envoys from each of the races came, and all the parties stared at them from where the two sat in what few shadows the private courtyard provided. Her friend from the previous night, Aragorn, was in attendance. His polite smile he sent her way did much to calm her nerves.

First came the Hobbits led by none other than Gandalf the Grey; the kindly wizard gave them a warm greeting, much to Kathryn's thanks and Smaug's irritation. Then came the elves, all beautiful and tall and serene. A band of human officials led by what looked like a warrior in his finest tunic came soon after; their eyes lingered a moment, but otherwise they kept to themselves. And lastly came the dwarves. Kathryn could hear and practically feel the vibrations of Smaug's low growl, his yellow eyes seeming to glow as if on fire. She grasped his hand in hers and willed him to remain quiet and seated.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond said once they were all gathered and seated around a stone plinth in the centre. "You've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor."

"Strangers indeed," the lead dwarf with a great red beard said (one who looked oddly familiar to Kathryn). He pointed a stubby gloved finger in Kathryn and Smaug's direction. "Elves and hobbits are all the same, but these two I don't know."

"This is Kathryn," Gandalf spoke up defensively. "She has come under my request to see if she can give us useful insight as a Seer."

The human leader curled his lip. "A witch then."

"I am no witch." Kathryn shot back before she could stop herself.

Even the elves seemed to agree, for one of them looked over to the humans, brows cast downward. "The abilities of the __Tharŷliel__ deserve more of your respect."

"Sounds like an elf curse word to me." Grumbled the dwarf from before.

"Then rest your already taxed brain, __dwarf__." Smaug hissed. "If I must listen to your drivel as well as remain in your presence, I might very well forget the pact of civility I am currently maintaining for my own amusement."

Kathryn's hand gripped Smaug's tighter, her head tilted to his direction. "Don't."

Her words fell on deaf ears. The dwarf leaned forward, his hand resting on a hefty great-axe.

"Careful there, laddie. That sounded like a threat…"

Before Kathryn could even think, Smaug's outrage and pride had completely encompassed him. "You dare to challenge me? I, who had memorised the mere taste of your ancestors long before you were born?!"

The air around him was charged with magic, she could feel it. In desperation to stop this from spiralling further out of control, Kathryn twisted to try and fully catch her mate's attention. Her hands gripped his sleeve tightly, her eyes pleaded with him. And then the wrong words flew out of her mouth before she could rethink them.

"Smaug, stop this–"

" _ _Smaug?!__ " shouted the dwarf and leapt to his feet, utterly furious. "You dare to repeat that creature's name in front of me, woman?! My people bled because of that beast – to bring back our home. And you would…" and then he stopped. The dwarf took in Smaug's true appearance: his angled cheek bones, his oddly tall and toned body, his teeth that looked a little too sharp, and most of all, his yellow glowing eyes. And then everyone noticed, and the dwarves shook in their boots. "By Thror's beard…"

A cruel and malicious smile smeared its way across Smaug's face, enjoying how the room trembled and the reveal of his true identity. "You seem to have gone pale, dwarf. Did daddy tell bad stories of me?"

"To arms!"

The dwarves leapt to their feet, weapons in hand. Smaug stood, and Kathryn felt his magic begin to reach for her, to drain her and transform. She couldn't have that. She wouldn't allow Smaug to be hurt, but she wouldn't allow this to become a blood bath either. As the dwarves charged, weapons held high and ready to strike, Kathryn leapt up and put herself between Smaug and the dwarves. Instantly, she felt Smaug go still, his pull on her magic ceasing. The dwarves hesitated, but the leader still looked ready to cleave right through her to get to his hated enemy.

And then Elrond stood from his chair beside her, a thunderous expression upon his face.

"Gimli son of Gloin, you shall not harm my guests in my house!" he roared with such ferocity that the dwarves were forced to take a step back to their seats. "Are you so blinded you would attack a woman with child?"

A memory flashed through Kathryn's mind, of her trapped on that bed in the Inn beside LakeTown. One of the dwarves had been named Gloin. This was his son?

Gimli fumed, his sides heaving just to try to contain the emotion inside of him. "If she is with him – then that is no child in her belly. It is dragon-spawn!"

Gandalf looked just as angry. "No matter what it is, you shall sit."

"I shall not sit and be at talks with the monster who made my people into honourless wanderers."

"Then you would doom us all?"

"Enough of this!" Elrond commanded for silence and it fell at his word. "All of you must put these old feuds aside. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each of us – each __race__ – is bound to this fate, this one doom!"

Put to shame by the elf Lord's logical and wise words, the group settled like chided children. Kathryn released the breath she hadn't realised she'd even been holding and slumped back into her chair. Smaug sat himself upright and protectively slightly in front of her, and gripped her hand in his.

Elrond then took the time to introduce each party and their leader who would speak on the behalf of their factions. Once he was done, he turned to the Hobbit that not even the other day had been lying ill on a bed. "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The boy gulped and shakily stood. As if his large feet weighed a thousand pounds, he trudged towards the plinth in the centre and placed something there. The soft chime of metal of stone rang. His fingers moved away, and revealed a golden ring. The mere sight of it sent waves of malicious dark energy across the group. The reaction of surprise and fear was immediate.

"So it is true…" Boromir whispered.

"The Ring of Power…" said someone else.

Kathryn's grip on her chair was suddenly bone-white. Her breathing came hard and fast. The magic she felt floating from the ring called out to her own, she could hear its whispers of hate and bloodlust. Memories of a time she had only heard a fraction of its darkness in a dream came to mind, and now in the flesh it was a thousand times worse. It was nails clawing down her spine, a skull-splitting pain in her skull, a coldness in her blood. It was torture on her senses and soul.

Smaug must have noticed how pale and cold she'd gone, for e tried to pull her attention back to him. "Kathryn?"

"I can't be near it!" she pleaded quietly. "Please… I hear the whispers…"

Before he could, the circle had gone quiet, as Boromir stood and slowly stepped to the Ring. "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark, but in the west a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'your doom is near at hand, Isildur's bane is found.' Isildur's bane…"

His fingers reached for the gold ring. Kathryn's panic reached a new height and it burst from her mouth in a scream. "Stop him!"

"Boromir!" Elrond shouted with her.

And then a dark tongue forced its way into the world from a tongue where it did not belong. Gandalf stood, staff in hand, darkness and shadows seeping from under his robes, out of his being. It infected the sunlit courtyard and made everything cold and bleak. It was enough to put Boromir out of his trance and back in his seat, and have everyone look towards him with fearful gazes – except for Smaug, who seemed more then slightly interested.

Elrond, however, did not look pleased. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!"

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf said gruffly, "for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."

"No, it is a gift." Boromir insisted. "A gift to the foes of Mordor."

Smaug sneered. "You fool. The stupidity of mankind grows more astounding every time they open their mouths. You are not worthy to even let its golden hue glimmer on your flesh."

"But why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of __our__ people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy, let us use it against him!"

"You cannot __wield__ it!" Aragorn finally snapped. "None of us can. The one Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a __Ranger__ know of this matter?" asked the human warrior.

"This is no mere Ranger!" Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, stood defiantly. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

"Aragorn?" Boromir seemed a little taken aback. " _ _This__ is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor."

Aragorn murmured something in elvish to the blonde elf, and it was enough to have him settle and sit.

Smaug leaned in his chair towards Kathryn, his lips brushing her ear. "You did not tell me your night-visitor was of such an interesting lineage."

"You were too busy coddling me to listen."

"I am a dragon, I do not coddle." He huffed. "Son of king and traitor. It always confuses me how you mortals will deny yourselves even the meagre glory you can be allowed."

"Of course you wouldn't." Kathryn rolled her eyes. "No matter your thoughts, however, he is the King of all men."

The display was not lost on Boromir, who seemed very much displeased. "Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King."

"But Aragorn is right." Gandalf said at last with a firm shake of his head. "We cannot use it."

Elrond stood. "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed."

"Then what are we waiting for?!" Gimli shouted, clearly at the end of his patience. He brought up his weapon once more and swung it down upon the ring.

A crash and a flash of light filled the courtyard. Kathryn screamed as her mind was assaulted with brightness and a cacophony of noise. She contorted in her chair, back arching, arms stiffening. Magic swam through her eyes, and pounded through her skull until she thought her eyeballs would burst. Dark and evil whispers echoed across her ears, a caress and a shout all at the same time. It encompassed every part of her, until finally, with her screaming, it exploded in a fountain of images over her brain.

 _ _An eye wreathed in flames, its sporadic movement cast is gaze all across the land. Orcs, trolls, goblins, all of them skulked over the lands, turning the lush forests and rolling meadows to naught but ash. A tower, taller than any other ever known, cast its own shadow which mingled and copulated with the evil of Mordor, and birthed its own vileness to add to the growing horde. The army stretched for miles, the darkness of it all encompassing to all corners of the land. And over the top of it all, Sauron's great eye searched. And Kathryn new he looked for –__

Before his eye could see her, she was pulled out of her vision and shaken back into the present. Her head felt so light it could snap clean off. The world was bright, blurred, sounds were muted. For a dreadful moment, she feared that she'd gone deaf and blind. The shaking got worse across her body, until she was aware that someone was over her, gripping her and attempting to bring her back.

"Kathryn?! Kathryn!" It was Smaug, he leaned over her, Elrond and Gandalf with him. A look of utter panic was etched into Smaug's features. If he was worried, Kathryn slowly felt her feelings of terror come back and overwhelm her. She gripped Smaug's tunic and used it to pull herself up and launch her face into his chest. His arms came around her as she pulled him close and wept her fear into him.

She could hear the other talking. "The witch is casting her spell!"

"Her light grows dim…" Legolas murmured sadly.

A hand touched her shoulder. Smaug growled savagely above her, and pulled her tighter against him. Kathryn struggled to turn her now red-streaked face to see her two elder companions staring at her worriedly. "Kathryn… Are you alright?"

Her lips trembled so badly she could barely string a sentence together. "I saw him… I saw Sauron!"

"What did you see?" Gandalf asked quickly.

"He's coming – he knows of the Ring, his army grows with Sauruman at his side." Hysterically, she turned to the man who held her, her face as white as a sheet. "Oh, Smaug! He knows of us. I don't know if he saw me or not–!"

The dragon's reply was desperate and fierce. "I will not allow him!"

The evil song of the ring hummed through the air. Kathryn cowered away from it. "Please – get that thing away from me! Hide it! I can't bear it."

"Its magic speaks to your own." Elrond nodded thoughtfully. "When Gimli attempted to destroy it, it called out."

Said dwarf was dismayed. "The damned thing broke my axe into splinters!"

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimili son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess."

"Yet we have here the Dragon Dread." Someone from the human group pointed out. "Why not have him melt it?"

Gandalf shook his head. "He cannot. In no dragon lies the fire great enough to consume that evil."

"I'll have you know wizard," Smaug retorted, "that lesser dragons have destroyed rings of power belonging to the dwarves. Were it any other, my fiery breath of death would render it to ash. But this One Ring – I admit – is a little… beyond my capabilities."

Elrond nodded. "Indeed. Not even Ancalagon himself could have done it. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be __unmade__. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Silence.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor…" Boromir groaned. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs – there is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. Tis a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas shot to his feet. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" the dwarf shouted back.

Smaug growled loudly. "Just like a dwarf – the mere look of gold has you buzzing like a fly to dead flesh."

"Says __you!__ " Gimli pointed his finger at him. "You couldn't do this task either!"

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir snapped, clearly at his wits end. "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!"

The arguments escalated. Kathryn could hear the ring, feuling their hate, their anger. Its whispers chipped away at her sanity, and she was about to scream when a little voice called out above the rest.

"I will take it!" all stopped what they were doing and looked to the small Hobbit, Frodo. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though… I do not know the way."

Gandalf sighed, a sad look on his face as if he clearly had not wanted this fate to befall his small friend. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear."

"By my life or death, I will protect you." Aragorn proclaimed and knelt in front of the hobbit. "You have my sword."

Legolas nodded and stood. "And you have my bow."

"And my axe!" Gimli exclaimed enthusiastically.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one." Boromir murmured and stepped up. Kathryn felt a shiver run down her spine. "If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

"And what of you, Kathryn and Smaug?" Elrond asked with a faint smile. "Shall you be joining this… Fellowship?"

Smaug looked down at Kathryn, and she looked up at him. She couldn't answer this one for him, this was something he had to decided. And she knew his decision, even before the word left his mouth.

"No."

Clearly no one had expected that.

"What?" Gandalf blustered in shock. "B-but, Smaug! Please, you have heard us say why we have need of you – you cannot turn us away."

"I can and I shall." He spat as he gathered Kathryn up in his arms and with ease began to carry her away and towards the exit. "I shall not belittle myself in the company of those lesser then I. And I also have more pressing matters to attend."

"You cannot hide forever! It is as Kathryn said: Sauron searches for you, and with him, Saruman also has his eye cast out for you both."

"I have done as you asked, Wizard." The dragon-in-human-skin turned and fixed the wizard an icy glare. "The task you asked of me is done. Do not come searching for me once more. If you do, I shall not allow either yours or Kathryn's words to hold me back from killing you where you stand."

Normally, Kathryn would have protested, but she was too shaken, too exhausted. The vision, the constant exposure to the foulness that was the Ring, it had completely depleted her. She was barely strong enough to keep her eyes open. They closed as she leant her head against Smaug's shoulder and let him carry her home.


	6. Chapter 6 - So It Begins

Chapter 6 – So It Begins –

 _"All about them as they lay hung the darkness, hollow and immense, and they were oppressed by the loneliness and vastness of the dolven halls and endlessly branching stairs and passages."_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

It took them several days to reach home once more, the winds of later seasons battling them every step of the way. Their cavernous home felt colder when finally they stepped through its stony entrance. The exhaustion of the trip had made Kathryn go straight for her overly large bed and sleep for several long hours. Dreams were fleeting to her mind, of forests and hikes through hills and mountain ranges. Smaug had not dreamed with her, though she doubted he would have found her where her mindscape was so unsettled.

Though winter was far off yet, it was as an unnatural cold had settled over the pair. Silence filled most of their time when in each other's company, their minds occupied with pressing issues. Kathryn often found herself thinking back onto the visions that had plagued her mind in Rivendell. They had left so fast she had not had time to properly think on them – or to even say goodbye to Lord Elrond or Gandalf. The vision revealed that Sauron was indeed amassing his forces, and that he was searching for Kathryn and Smaug as well as the One Ring. That much was certain. But what else could be hidden within that she hadn't managed to unlock? Visions were often like riddles, their hidden meanings often draped behind a veil of metaphor and symbolism.

Most of all, she couldn't help but think on the Fellowship, and how must it be faring. Were they safe? Could they have done more to aid them? She respected Smaug's decision to keep them out of this. Even some part of her agreed. The One Ring was an object of pure malevolence and power, and as it had proven time and again, she was no match for it. The thing drove her to the point of madness just to be in its presence, the whispers of it still haunted the edges of her nightmares. And yet it felt wrong, almost irresponsible of her, to leave this problem in the hands of others. If they somehow failed was that not Kathryn's fault for not doing anything to help? The greatest crimes are committed not because someone thought them up, but because someone else allowed them to happen. The philosophies of this subject just chased each other around and around through her mind day and night.

Finally, a week after their return, Kathryn broached the subject. "Do you truly believe what we did was right?"

Smaug looked over at her from where he had been previously cleaning the scales along the back of one talon. "What?"

"We left them." She clarified. "The Fellowship might have had need of us. Did we do what was right by leaving them?"

The dragon's brows drew down over his eyes grumpily. "I thought you had left that decision to me."

"Yes, and I do not disagree with it, necessarily. But I merely wonder–"

"Don't. We have more important matters to think on."

She shot him a look. "What could be more important than our own world potentially falling?"

"Deciding what we shall do should that come to pass." He snapped right back. "Let the mortals deal with their own problems. We need to focus on ourselves and our offspring for the time being."

"You know it is not that simple. If the fight comes, should we not meet it?"

"Not if it means I must declare for the clearly __losing__ side."

Kathryn flinched at the implication in his tone. Her heart pounded at the very idea. "You cannot mean that! You would not subject us both to that fate!"

Surprisingly, Smaug's fiery eyes seemed to lose the heat of their glare for a brief moment. His long neck slithered towards her, his hot breath ruffling her hair with a small sigh. "My wish is for your safety, Kathryn. The rest is trivial to me."

The woman slowly reached up to place her hand between his two great nostrils. "At some point, Smaug, you'll need to find something to fight for besides me."

He voiced no answer to that.

* * *

Two months passed after that, and the child in Kathryn's belly quickened its pace. Her protruding stomach was most prominent now, and she could barely walk without losing her breath. The child sapped her of the food she consumed and the energy she gained, and even at night it kept her up at all odd hours. Smaug's mood grew horrid when he realised there was little he could do to find a solution. Frustration from his lack of ability almost made him insufferable to be around. The rapid progression towards the end of an otherwise slow-paced pregnancy had them both worried, especially when Kathryn's other limbs began to grow slightly thin where she had little food in her for herself. The common phrase of 'eating for two' felt horribly inadequate, for though Kathryn ate like a dragon it never seemed to be enough. And that was what she did keep in her stomach. She'd thought the worst of the morning sickness had passed, but now it returned with a vengeance.

It was also distressing when Smaug had to leave for longer and longer periods of time in order to find any game. The dragon was not shaken by much, yet he did seem to grow concerned at the fat that the land had gone "quiet" in recent weeks, as he said. Large game was hard to find, unless one wanted to travel into further into unexplored lands or raid farms for cattle (which Kathryn was loath for him to do in case it might draw attention to them). Crops were not failing, as such, but were certainly not as healthy as one might expect. Everything that was once in balance in the world had now fled, as if all mother nature's creatures had scattered to the four corners to wait out the terrible storm which was to come.

So it was on the nights that Smaug was gone hunting further and further adrift, that Kathryn dreamed… with someone else.

At first it had been abstract images, disorientating sensations. Then as the nights went by, it became more of connection, able to see memories and the present around one another. And then in time, it grew until the pair occupied their own space inside their minds with which they could converse freely. Kathryn had been most shocked to discover that the mystery belonged to none other than the would be king: Aragorn.

 _ _"Why are you here?" she had said upon first realising it was him.__

 _ _The man had looked equally confused. "I know not. I had thought it was the other side of this connection that had summoned me here."__

 _ _"Not I. And you had best leave before Smaug knows you are here."__

Yet strangely Smaug never noticed. In the nights that followed, in which Kathryn desperately tried to block out the intruding night visitor, never once did Smaug ever appear to catch on to the other man inside his mate's head. Even on the rare occasions in which they did dream together again, there was a separate part of Kathryn's mind which was completely sealed off from him and allowed to interact with that of Aragorn's. At first, Kathryn did her utmost to deny these strange visions, to block them out of her mind or outright ignore them. She did not know this man, did not wish to; yet no matter what she did, she could not shake him from her, even when he himself seemed to be trying to block it as well. And though perhaps she should have asked Smaug for advice upon waking, something stayed her tongue every time. No doubt Smaug would not react favourably, and she was too spent to deal with his jealousies. It was her own little secret now. And over time, her curiosity began to get the better of her, and she indulged in these little talks. They were only ever fleeting, one conversation never lasting even an hour at best. Yet it was time for the two to speculate.

 _ _"What do you suppose caused this strange connection?" asked Aragorn one night.__

 _ _"I know not for sure…" Kathryn had murmured in thought. "But maybe it was that magic we felt when we touched at Rivendell. Could it have linked us? It is the same between Smaug and myself, though changed. His magic bound his mind and mine together, so that we could share in dreams,"__

 _ _"Such magic is beyond my understanding. And what purpose could it serve?"__

 _ _"Perhaps it is a sign that our business with each other is not yet complete, that there is something more that we must do…"__

 _ _"Do you really believe such a thing is possible?"__

 _ _"Fate is my fickle master, Aragorn, and I know its wily ways. It is not done with us just yet."__

Indeed not. For it was during one of these dreams that the catalyst would be set to send Kathryn and Smaug into a series of truly irreversible events.

 _ _Aragorn stood before her. Unlike Kathryn, who remained at her physical peak in dreams, his dream-like form reflected that of his physical counterpart. It had been some days since last they'd spoken. He now looked half frozen, drifts of ice and snow clung to his hair, clothes damp through and his skin wind-burnt. Yet even then he held himself tall and proud, and that same kind quietness never once left his eyes.__

 _ _"Aragorn," Kathryn remarked with wide eyes. "What has happened to you? How fares the Fellowship?"__

 _ _"We have been turned around," Aragorn sighed tiredly.__

 _ _"How so?"__

 _ _"Gandalf led us through the mountains, but we were besieged by snowstorms and Legolas spoke of foul voices on the wind. We were almost buried in the snow. The way was too treacherous to pass."__

 _ _"So what now?"__

 _ _"Now we must find a different way across. We cannot head south or risk coming too close to Isengard. Instead, we must head through the mountain itself, through Moria."__

 _ _Kathryn felt a chill envelop her body. She knew not the significance of the name exactly, but all knew the wives' tale of the abandoned dwarven kingdom filled with monster who would eat naughty children. Though Kathryn was too old for such tales to affect her now, something still made her stomach seize with foreboding. "Moria? Aragorn, you mustn't!"__

 _ _"Did you not hear me, Kathryn? We cannot take the mountain path, we must–"__

 _ _"Try again! Trust me, Aragorn. I have a bad feeling about this path the Fellowship walks…"__

 _ _Aragorn stepped forward urgently at that. "Have you seen danger in a vision?"__

 _ _"Not really, but I still feel–"__

 _ _"I am sorry, Kathryn," he sighed, disappointed. "But there is nothing I can do. We already approach Moria, it is too late."__

* * *

Long after the dream was dispelled and Kathryn had arisen for the day, she still thought on Aragorn's words and the sense of dread that would not leave her, even now. The needle and thread she held still in her fingers twinkled in the waning light, the cool metal a soft sensation against the pads of her thumbs. She stared at the way the light played on the needle tip, her thoughts far away even as her eyes seemed fixated on the shine. Were the Fellowship through Moria by now, she thought. Had they reached through to the other side? Gandalf was a wizard of great renown; surely, he could keep the group undetected and safe should there be any threats lurking in the dark. If what Aragorn had hinted at was true, and their mountain path had been sabotaged which forced them to take the underground route, then could that same foe be waiting in ambush?

Kathryn tutted herself as she stabbed the needle through small square of cloth in her lap. There was no point continuing the task, for her mind was not concentrating at all. She leaned her head on her hand, elbow propped on the seat of the chair. A smell of the faint tinge of metal clung to her fingertips. Kathryn's eyes wandered over towards Smaug, where he lay not too far off napping – though she knew he was more than aware of what was going on around him. His quiet snores rumbled in his throat and leaked out of his nostrils with an accompaniment of subtle smoke. Kathryn wished she had the same ease with which to rest.

Her hand drifted down to her belly, absently stroking it, and felt a small kick in response. She smiled. What luck for her, to have such a tiny thing cause her such worry and discomfort… yet she loved it dearly already. Distracting from the morbid thoughts of before, the seer began to wonder at names once again. She played with the idea of something elvish, but knew Smaug would not agree to any such thing. Dragon names were a bit of a mystery to her, and she hesitated on such names. Should her child be born more human like her, then she would want a name more befitting, a name where they might be able to blend in with society and live a full life filled with companionship, love and community. Everything Kathryn had been without all her life. In a single moment, as her child slumbered beneath her gently beating heart, she envisioned an entire future for her child… and it was limitless.

But how limitless could it truly be in these times? Her smile faded as the devil's advocate in her reared its ugly head. What world was she bringing her child into, where creatures of evil and dark were amassing to destroy lands of beauty and peace. There would be no future for her child, if it was to inherit a world poisoned and sickened, with the air choked and the trees dead and the wildlife gone. Sauron would do all of this. He would take away her child's future, and he had no concept of the idea in his foul mind. He, and his One Ring would crush everything under heel, until the world had turned to eternal rock and lifeless grey.

But no, she shook her head, determined to banish such predictions out of her mind. She could not think like that! The Fellowship would succeed, she knew it! Frodo would journey into Mordor, and he would destroy the Ring. It must be so, with Gandalf beside him, nothing was impossi–

Kathryn sucked in a breath as pain exploded across her mind. A strangled scream burst out of her throat, as every muscle along her body clenched tightly. Her nails dug into the arms of her chair, painful cramps seized along her waist. In a panic she tried to force her body to relax, fearing that the force might harm her child! Barely aware of sound over her own blood pressure in her ears, Kathryn faintly heard Smaug snarl awake, prepared for attack, until he caught sight of her. The light around her vision warped and heightened, and she had to squeeze them shut with another cry. Liquid fire was oozing over her brain. Magic coursed through her like burning ice that destroyed every vein and muscle it passed as it made its way to her heart. Even behind her eyelids, she was not safe from the glare of it, as with a final detonation, she was shot forward into a vision…

* * *

 _ _Though it was rare, Kathryn found herself in the vision to not be physically a part of it, instead she was more of an ethereal being, able to look upon all that was happening as if her eyes floated in the air. She saw the Fellowship huddled together, lone figures in a dark abyss. Their heads snapped to either side, as a thousand footsteps scurried out of sight like the legs of a horde of insects. From the beyond came an ominous rumble as deep as a dragon's that made the very stone tremble in fear. The Fellowship looked to the sound as distant fluttering red light grew ever closer in the distance.__

 _ _The human man, Boromir, clutched his torch tightly as he leaned into a weary looking Gandalf to whisper like a child afraid in the dark. "What is this new devilry?"__

 _ _"The Balrog…" said the Grey Wizard. His hair was tangled and unkept, his grey pointed hat long gone and his robes a mess. Truly, it seemed as if a thousand years had been added to his old eyes. Gandalf clutched his staff tightly as a metallic growl grew ever louder. "A demon of the ancient world… this foe is beyond any of you – RUN!"__

 _ _With the wizard's shout, the Fellowship raced through corridors and between pillars and down lofty halls that reminded Kathryn of the so eerily familiar yet distant Lonely Mountain. The warriors tried to keep their hobbit charges in the middle of the group so that they wouldn't be left behind. They were only guided by the shifting light atop Gandalf's staff, throwing even Kathryn's vision into complete disarray. Behind them the screech of the fire-light followed them, the bay of a hound on the scent of blood.__

 _ _On they ran, and even Kathryn began to feel a burn in her lungs from exhaustion though she had no material legs with which to run on. Gandalf began to lag behind, his old and battered body showing signs of fatigue that had the seer urging without a voice for him to hurry. They neared a bridge, a walkway of stone over an endless chasm that descended far into the bowels of the earth. It was only large enough to go single file, and one by one the Fellowship made it across, with Gandalf being the last at the back of their company.__

 _ _Half way across the bridge he stopped and turned, sword in one hand and staff in the other, to face the beast that pursued them. With a roar, it reared out of lashing flame that rose up out of the ground. Kathryn shrieked with terror though she had no mouth with which to voice it. A demon of shadow and flame, skin as black as the darkness it erupted from, flames dancing across its hunched-back. Monstrous, tattered bat-like wings spread out behind it as it roared straight at Gandalf, the wizard seeming to be its primary focus. Yet Gandalf stood fast against the brute, even when faced with its jagged stone-like maw, where the depths of a volcano shone out, the heat so strong it distorted the air.__

 _ _"You cannot pass!" Gandalf told the beast defiantly.__

 _ _"No!" cried a little voice from across the bridge. Kathryn recognised it as belonging to the Hobbit, Frodo, but could not take her eyes off of the Balrog. Wings of toxic smoke spread wide, the Balrog made the flames along its body burn bright in order to show off its great might.__

 _ _"I am the servant of the secret fire," Gandalf uttered, brandishing staff and sword in turn, "Wielder of the flame of Arnor… The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!"__

 _ _From thin air, the Balrog brandished a sword as long as two men made entirely of roaring flames. With a great bellow, it struck the sword towards Gandalf, who held his staff aloft. A bright blinding light flashed into an orb around the wizard, and broke the flaming sword into a thousand pieces which fractured into molten flame and slipped into the chasm. Gandalf and the Balrog cried out, and the monster took a single step backwards.__

 _ _Gritting his teeth, the wizard spat at his foe. "Go back to the shadow…"__

 _ _Defiantly, the Balrog took a step onto the bridge, intent to come after his quarry. One more from thin air, it produced a weapon, this time a whip a bright as coals on a fire. When it cracked the savagely long rope through the air a small explosion of fire ignited. With wicked jaws gleaming open, it made to take another step.__

 _ _The Grey Wizard stood alone against his foe, and held his sword and staff above his head and gave an almighty cry. "YOU… SHALL NOT… PASS!"__

 _ _He struck the staff onto the bridge and where it touched an explosion of light erupted. Kathryn was blinded, and then deafened as the thunder of the earth splitting crashed against her hearing. She cried out as the heat blasted against and dislodged her from her dream, sending her hurtling back into her body.__

* * *

"GANDALF!" Kathryn screamed as she landed back in her own skin.

"Kathryn!" Smaug was shouting at her, his large head hovering above her, great eyes wide with worry.

The woman's sides were heaving, and her body felt utterly exhausted. Her stomach felt tender and for a frightening moment she thought she'd done damage to herself. Sweat soaked her skin, as if she had been there in the cavern with the Balrog's foul fire breathing upon her. Though her limbs shook terribly, she pushed herself upwards to stand and stumbled towards Smaug, her hands reaching out to place upon his scales.

"S-Smaug," she uttered breathlessly. "We-we must go!"

"Go?" he demanded. "Go where? What happened, Kathryn? What did you see?"

"The Fellowship!" she cried. "They are in Moria – and they are set upon by a __Balrog!__ "

Smaug's face slackened with shock, for even he knew the stories of the demons from the days of Morgoth. If one had discovered the Fellowship, they were as good as dead. Kathryn knew the same, and though her visions could come from any point in the past, present or future, this one had left a distinct impression that it was either happening now, or to happen VERY soon.

Smaug came back to his senses and shook his head with a loud snort. "I know what you wish for us to do, and it will not happen. I forbid it!"

"But we must, they'll die."

"Then let them! Better them then us."

"You cannot say that!"

"And what?" the dragon snapped. "What would you have me do? Fly off to their rescue? I am not so foolish as that. And I will not leave you here unguarded."

"I have no intention of being left behind. I am going with you."

"Absolutely not!" he raged. "What foolishness is this that you would have me not only head into battle but have __you__ with me?! Unacceptable!"

"They cannot defeat this on their own, Gandalf will die. Can't the greatest dragon of the age defeat a long-forgotten monster?"

"What you speak of is no simple task." Said Smaug in a rare moment of quiet humility that made Kathryn more afraid then if he had roared his war-cry. Did Smaug truly not know if he could win against the Balrog? Was its foul magic truly so strong?

"Smaug, we must leave, now." Kathryn said in a low voice. Thinking quickly of what might be able to convince, she jumped onto the first thing that came to mind. "Smaug, come with me to save Gandalf's life. And if you do so, your debt to the wizard will finally be repaid in full."

The dragon looked over at her with sly narrowed eyes. "I do nothing, and the Wizard dies. And then I am free of the debt regardless."

"And should the wizard live? Then he will ask for the full worth of a dragon's honour."

The pair stared hard into each other's eyes, a battle between their great wills. But Smaug could not shake her words and knew her to be right. He was loath to enter into this, but by the glisten of Kathryn's purple eyes, Smaug knew her insistence in this matter would not abate. A true dilemma indeed.

"Very well." He muttered.

Delicately taking her in hand, Smaug clawed his way out of their cavern home and burst out into light of day. With a roar, he drove his wings downward, propelling himself upwards on a hot hurricane wind. As fast as the winds could carry him, he soared eastward to the mountains on the horizon.

Little did Kathryn realise that that was the very last time she would ever see home again.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Highest Peak

Chapter 7 – To The Highest Peak –

 _"_ _The Dwarves tell no tale; but even as mithril was the foundation of their wealth, so also it was their destruction: they delved too greedily and too deep, and disturbed that from which they fled, Durin's Bane."_ J.R.R Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

Through wind and rain and snow, Smaug flew swifter than any arrow. As fast as his wings would permit him, he strained to master the air currents that both helped and hindered him on his flight to the Misty Mountains. Kathryn could feel within him the strain of his muscles work to beat against the laws of physics, to defy nature itself to get them there in record time. Smaug flew non-stop for almost two days in an effort to reach the mountains that covered the dwarf kingdom of Moria. By their journey's end, even Kathryn was exhausted and hurting from the battering of the elements. Though Smaug would never concede to weakness, his wife could sense in him the fatigue that threatened.

Kathryn stretched the ability of her powers as far as she could, to attempt to pull her towards the vision she'd beheld. When the Misty Mountain peaks barred their way, Smaug had no choice but to head upwards. Air turned thin, rain froze to snow, and winds appeared from nothing. The cold made Kathryn's knuckles and toes burn with its icy-sting, and it was all she could do to clutch to the always-hot dragon flesh that surrounded her in order to keep herself warm. Even then, her teeth chattered and her ears ached from the constant bite of the wind. Through the ice that had her squinting, she tried to look out onto the landscape, to attempt to find something that might lead her onward. Smaug was about ready to turn around, for they would just be flying in circles at this rate. When it appeared.

Lightning suddenly erupted through the sky, forking and snaking its way from cloud to cloud. A roar of fury and darkness boomed in time with the thunder, and as in a nightmare, Kathryn shivered with trepidation for the unknown she knew to be coming. Smaug changed course slightly so as to hone in on the sound. The closer they drew, the clearer they could hear signs of battle. Shouts, roars and the clash of arms.

Breaking through the cloud cover, they dawned into being to a peak that seemed cut off from the rest of Arda, existing in its own little sphere. Carved from the stone of the mountaintop was crafted a tower, perhaps in ancient days being a watchtower for Moria's mighty Kingdom, or perhaps a crows nest for the king to gaze upon all he ruled. On the tower, the dragon and woman spied a battle. A creature forged of shadow and flame stood with hunched back pouring noxious black smoke where most of its flames had been extinguished in the snow. Horns and fangs protruded from a skull-head, where twin flames roosted above a gaping inferno abyss for a mouth. A whip of flame in hand, the monster swung its huge arms at the figure it grappled with. It took Kathryn a moment to recognise the frail grey figure for Gandalf! Her heart threatened to fail with fright for the old man. Though she knew the power of the wizards to be great, she did not know how he could last against such a beastly entity of evil.

Gandalf swung his staff, limbs weak and shaking, at the last of his strength. The Balrog stepped back, avoiding the strike. Its black wings appeared flimsy in the light of the world, yet were still strong enough to knock down the stone behind it. Almost as if unaware of its surroundings, it nearly lost its footing on the tower-edge, yet recovered quickly. With a snarl, it struck its whip at Gandalf, who barely managed to dive out of the way in time. The stone where he had been exploded in a shower of rubble. As the wizard tried to get back up, the Balrog smacked him back down with a vicious fist.

With a roar, Smaug dove into the fray.

The full blast of his fire hit the Balrog in a great explosion. The creature screamed as it was engulphed by the flames. As he passed over the tower top, Smaug released Kathryn from his grasp, letting her stumble onto the snow-covered stone. In an instant after, he was gone from her side and smashed his body into the Balrog. Claws sank into flesh, and teeth tore at its neck. The Balrog roared in fury, striking its arms at the mighty dragon that assaulted it. Smaug was easily twice the size of the Balrog in height, if not more, and the sheer length and size of his body dwarfed that of the demonic beast. Yet still this would not be an easy kill. Momentum forcing the way, Smaug sent them both tumbling over the edge of the tower and into the white abyss.

Kathryn fell to her knees beside Gandalf. Panic swept through her, as she gazed upon his dirtied wrinkled skin, his bloodied nose and one eye that looked as if the socket around it had been crushed. With gentle fingers she tried to turn him onto his back. Ear bent to his mouth, she listened for breath. It was there, though faint. Perhaps it was the absence of Smaug's heat, or the shock and fear of her situation had caught up with her. The woman trembled fiercely, to the point that it was difficult to grasp hold of Gandalf's frayed and tattered robes and clutch him to her lap. Her legs were quickly numbed and then half frozen as she knelt in the snow. Her stomach constricted with pain. But she would not abandon Gandalf, he needed her.

 _BOOM!_

A scream tore from Kathryn's lips as the tower wobbled and threatened to collapse beneath her. By some miracle, it held in place, though barely. She clung to Gandalf's body, cradled him in her arms as if to both protect him and seek whatever safety the old wizard had always offered her. A flurry of red amidst the blizzard caught her eye. Smaug swooped around the mountain-top, and the Balrog clung to his shoulders, one arm wrapped around the Fire-Drake's neck. It tried to squeeze the breath from Smaug's throat, thereby choking back the fire he attempted to spew into the world. Flipping his body, Smaug managed to throw the shadow-demon from him, though the Balrog managed to keep a one-handed hold on Smaug's arm. Plucking up the Balrog, Smaug rent it with wicked claws, until black-blood boiled the frozen ground far below. The Balrog fought as if this pained it but was of no real consequence. It bit at Smaug's flesh with its overly large fangs, beat its fists upon him and it cracked its fiery whip at his wings. Though fire cannot harm a dragon, the sting of the blow itself was enough to interrupt Smaug's wingbeats and have his flight dip dramatically.

Getting his feet into the Balrog's stomach, Smaug kicked it away from him. On the peak beside the tower, the Balrog was struck. The mountaintop crumbled beneath the beast's weight, and the creature stumbled some ways down. To stop itself, it swung its mighty whip to ensnare it about Smaug's ankle and pull him downwards. Like a fisherman reeling in his catch, the Balrog showed impressive strength to haul in the gigantic dragon. Swinging upon the whip, the Balrog smashed Smaug down onto the other side of the mountain, the dragon barely having enough time to fold in his wings so as to protect them from being crushed. Snow and rock erupted in a fountain from the impact, so large that Smaug's size was lost beneath it.

Breath refused to come to Kathryn as her purple eyes remained wide upon the spot where she had last seen her husband. She searched the bond inside herself, the unfeeling fingers of one hand going to her dragon-scale necklace and holding it to her heart. The edges of the scale cut her cold-weakened flesh, but she paid it no attention.

The Balrog of Morgoth stumbled its way towards the crater that Smaug had made upon the mountainside. From the shroud of snow and pebble-dust, a foul hiss came. Out of the mist struck huge jaws on a long neck that coiled and sprang like a snake. The Balrog barely managed to side-step Smaug's strike. Teeth snapped on empty air, but Smaug came again and again with lightning speed. At first, Kathryn was glad to see him well, but it turned to ash in her mouth when she realised that where he stood upon unstable and broken rock, one of his legs wouldn't support his weight, no matter how he tried to hide the fact. With a snarl, the Balrog struck back with powerful fists. For each bite that Smaug inflicted upon the creature, he was pounded over the head with nasty and vicious blows. One of which, Kathryn was shaken to see, cut the mighty dragon, for one of his brows was suddenly split and lazily oozed blood of a brighter red hue than his scales. Growling savagely at such an offence, Smaug's chest shone like the sun as he unleashed a blazing fire upon the Balrog. Such heat was conjured that Kathryn could feel it sting her face even from such a distance away. The Balrog screeched and threw a boulder at the dragon to interrupt his focus. Smaug dodged it, his shifting weight making a broken loose slab beneath one foot slide a little.

Cracking its whip, the Balrog entwined the fiery chord around Smaug's throat. He pulled it tight, and the noose closed on the dragon's windpipe. Smaug's eyes bulged and he writhed to reach up and pry the rope off. The Balrog was upon him before he could, and hooked its clawed fingers into his mouth. One hand each on his top and bottom fangs, he attempted to pull open Smaug's jaws wider and wider. Kathryn could envision the horrible death it intended to inflict and screamed. As if in response to her call, fire shot forth from Smaug's parted jaws and hit the Balrog's head, the blow making it stumble backwards and the whip working loose. Attempting to catch the dragon again, the Balrog threw its whip at its opponent time and time again, though his blows never quite managed to hit their target.

Yet astonishingly, Smaug was forced to retreat. One shaking step after the other he unwillingly gave ground to the Balrog, that pushed him further and further towards a steep cut into the Mountainside. Kathryn's panic consumed her, and she went to shout a warning to Smaug. But she needn't have bothered. She saw the glint of cunning in Smaug's yellow eyes, and how his focus shifted for a split second to the Balrog's footsteps, which had come forward until it stepped into Smaug's crater. With a sudden flash of movement, that threw away his previous deception of severe injury, Smaug spun and smashed his tail upon the fragile ground at the Balrog's feet. A quake began in the foundations of the earth, and then snow and rocks slid away, and the Balrog was sent tumbling down the mountain with a shriek. Smaug sagged for a moment, exhausted, before the snow around him began to tremble and then near buried him as an avalanche began around him. It half covered the dragon, piling on top of him, and forcing him down as well and out of Kathryn's sight.

Kathryn wanted to immediately go after him, to make sure he was alright, but the weight in her lap reminded her of her responsibility. She leant over Gandalf, her divided mind keeping her from action. The old man's pulse was faint beneath her fingers and his breath was hardly warm enough to make vapour in the cold air. Though she had not consciously been aware of it before now, Kathryn seemed to have always registered an invisible glow about the wizard, something extraordinary in his very being that comforted her and drew her in. Yet now, that glow was dimmed to such a degree, she could barely feel it, as if it lacked the power to stay with him a moment longer.

She went to touch him, but gasped when she noticed the shallow cut in her hand from where she'd gripped the scale so tightly. The crimson streak looked so stark against her pale flesh. At the disturbing sight, the worm of an idea burrowed itself inside her mind. Smaug had once eluded to the fact that blood anchored and carried magic of its own… In a desperate attempt to save him, Kathryn sought her hand beneath Gandalf's robe to touch the palm of her hand against his chest, to smear her blood against the beat of his heart. Closing her eyes, she willed the emotion inside to summon forth the fountain she felt inside her. It came, a burn along her veins, an ache at its passing through her core as it surged to life from the pit of her soul and came into being through her body. The dip of energy in her flesh was noticeable even now, but she bore the burden. Sixty years of practice came in handy at this moment. When she reached for the bond that flowed between her and Smaug, the bountiful wealth of magic that lay between them, it hastily came to her command. It scorched a path through her chest, along her collarbone, and down her arm. It seemed to seek out the droplets of spilled blood like a hound to a scent. Through it, it seeped down into Gandalf's flesh. At first, Kathryn felt resistance, but she pushed onwards regardless. Teeth gritted, she forced her will to dominate that which would hinder her. Raw Magic flowed from her into the body of the old man. Tight cramps gripped her stomach, but she ignored it.

The body drank greedily from her, as if he were an eternal black abyss that drank in whatever light could shine upon it. Kathryn's eyes flew open when she felt the chest suddenly heave underneath her hand and she heard a ragged gasp. Gandalf lay before her, one eye bulging wide and neck strained as if pushing against a great weight. His limbs shook violently and his fist closed around the hilt of his sword. Encouraged, Kathryn took this for a good sign, and though already she felt fatigued, she pushed more of her Raw Magic into Gandalf, to bring him back to full strength and beyond if she could.

A shadow eclipsed her and the sense of dread she felt broke away her concentration. Twisting, her mouth fell open in a silent scream as the Balrog climbed over the edge of the tower and shakily stood to loom over her. She shied away, unable to stand the Balrog's presence as she felt a suffocating and noxious aura press against her. Like a poisonous vapor it threatened to choke the life out of her own being. How had Smaug or Gandalf managed to stay in this creature's presence for so long? In vain, she tried to shield Gandalf from sight with her own body, as cumbersome as that was with her bulging belly between them. One hand encircled her stomach and she prayed for some force to save them.

Suddenly, Gandalf shot upright, his sword held up to the sky with a mighty cry. With a deafening crack of thunder, lightning shot down from the sky and struck his sword. The blade was eclipsed with a blinding white light, as if the essence of the storm itself were captured within. The Balrog charged at his reawakened foe, fist raised to smit him where he lay. Gandalf pushed his body into one last thrust, and struck his sword through the Balrog's chest. A spear of lightning exploded from the sword-tip and electrocuted through the Balrog's entire body. The demon screamed and contorted with agony. When the lightning died, it staggered and tore at its own flesh as if to rip out the offending power from its body. One foot grazed the edge of the tower-top.

Out from beneath the tower, Smaug appeared with wings spread wide behind the Balrog. Claws sank into the flesh of the Balrog's shoulders and his teeth plunged into its head. With a violent twist and shake of his massive jaws, there was a loud _CRACK_ , and the Balrog's neck was broken. Smaug roared his victory with animalistic fury and threw his enemy from the tower, letting its corpse crash into the mountainside.

It was over. Kathryn could've collapsed herself from the relief and exhaustion she felt. Smaug himself sagged, his huge bulk barely able to fit on the tower top, and he nearly fell off himself without the strength to keep him up. But then, Gandalf, who had seemed so alive but a moment before, collapsed to the snowy ground again, and this time, he was barely breathing at all. Kathryn shrieked with panic, and tried to once again push her magic into him, but this time it did not wish to answer her summons. She pressed against Gandalf's chest, to pump his heart, any thing she could try to save his life. Yet the body of the old man refused to answer her calls.

Tears streaked her face, but she refused to give up. Gandalf had never given up on her, and she wouldn't give up on him now, either. Yet fatigue and grief can sap the resolve of even the most determined soul. And it was in the state that Kathryn thought she felt a slight tickle against the corners of her mind. A breeze came past all her mental defences and gently worked its way inside her consciousness.

At first there was an echo of words she couldn't understand or barely hear. A few faint phrases she thought she recognised as elvish, but put it aside to the faint imaginings of a tired mind. And then a warmth and light spread through her, and a voice of such clarity, beauty and command filled her so completely it was like the toll of a great cathedra bell.

 _"_ _Bring Mithrandir to the forests of Caras Galadhon…"_ whispered the voice in the common-tongue amidst the sea of elven words around it. At first, Kathryn wanted to shy away, for fear that this was some trap laid by Sauron or Fankil. But the voice came again. _"Come, quickly, if you wish to see him saved, Tharŷliel…"_

Was it the voice or that specific word that had Kathryn sure enough to take a risk? She knew not which it was, but it did not matter. She knew in that moment that she had to obey, and hoped that safety awaited at the end.

"Smaug," she said and turned to meet his gaze.

The dragon-dread looked weary and as if he could sleep for ten years with the way his eyes drooped. "I heard it," he muttered. "But I do not wish it."

"We cannot stay here, Smaug," Kathryn pleaded. "Gandalf needs a healer, and I shall freeze if we stay in this place."

He could not argue, though he was reluctant to move. Carefully, Smaug took hold of Kathryn in one of his huge hands, and she was instantly grateful to have his heat surround her once again. In the other hand, he plucked up the wizard's stiff body, even taking in his sword. And then, with the last of his strength, Smaug turned towards the south-east, and pushed his wings out into the wind.

* * *

From snow and ice to fire and ash across the world, an evil presence stalked. Between hellish pits, in an atmosphere so terrible it would clog the lungs of mortal men, a figure walked with an odd gait. No blade of grass nor sapling of any tree grew here. Fragments of stone and sulphur and gravel crunched under heel, smoke and heat trailing in each footstep. Robes once immaculately clean could not stay that way inside of Mordor, for dust and grime worked their way into fabric and skin until all things were spoilt by the place's foul touch.

Tall and thin was the figure that walked the desolate ground, black eyes glinted beneath the shadow of a hood. So skeletal did he appear, his shoulders looked frail as though they might snap, his fingers long and wriggling like a spider's legs. A limp as if from an old wound accompanied his every step, and one arm was cradled tight against his chest in a sling.

As he walked the volcanic lands of Mordor, the spectre was besieged by a presence. It filled the air, inhabited the stones, came from the very foundations of Mordor itself. It awoke something within the creature's blood, a call upon a black soul. Evil spoke to evil, came through to the back of the mind with ease, as if their very foulness connected them.

 _"_ _Far have you come,"_ said a voice that could be matched by no other, _"to toil in the lands of Mordor in hope of aid in your quest…"_

"Then you know of why I am here," said the figure. "I had thought you would be more forthcoming to serve your master."

 _"_ _That master is not you. Remember who was Morgoth's second in command, Fankil."_

The demon spawn's step paused on the ashen ground. His brows furrowed with slight ire though he kept his words civil yet laced with a sharp point. "Then should not the second-in-command be chief amongst his servants to lead the hunt for the Master's release? I seek the Seer that would answer such a riddle."

 _"_ _You had her. You lost her."_

"There were… complications, back then." Fankil could not help but to reach for his arm, useless and bone-like in its sling. The latest of his enduring ails, given to him when last he had confronted the Seer sixty years ago.

 _"_ _What would you wish of Sauron?"_ asked the voice.

"Bring her to me," Fankil demanded. "You have not been idle, brother to darkness, your means are now great. Use your sight, send forth your servants. Locate the Seer and bring her to face our justice."

 _"_ _There are other matter that must come first,"_

"Your search for the Ring is futile," Fankil's steps halted as his frustration grew. "As servant of Morgoth, you owe your loyalty and your forces to him and his release."

 _"_ _The domination of this world was begun in his honour,"_ the voice growled out. The gravelly ground of Mordor trembled in response. _"And should the Ring be lost to us, it will bring harm not just to me but also to you."_

"You will not seek her?"

 _"_ _The great eye sees much but not all."_ The voice grew thoughtful. _"The Seer and her dragon that thwarted you once before have also been mine to hunt. But they have hidden themselves well beyond my sight."_

"Then there is no use to be here,"

 _"_ _Not all things hidden remain so,"_ now a dark glee entered the voice, undeniable and the lure it created would spin any mortal mind into whatever seductive promise it would speak. _"Prey must be drawn out into the open. The pieces are in place now. They will be open to us the moment they fall to temptation."_

On this, Fankil could not argue. After he'd recuperated his strength, he had searched for many years for his quarry. Though his trust in Sauron was waning with the Dark Lord's growing ambitions, he knew the fallen Maiar still had his uses. "Very well." And with that, the demon drew himself away to leave Mordor's boarders. "Just remember, Sauron, this world is not yours to rule. Only to steward."

The dark presence that was the Sauron thought on Fankil's words for a time, his anger at them growing the longer he dwelt on them. But such things were not worthy of his attention at this moment. Time was of the essence. The chance was almost at hand for him to make his final move. Saruman continued to be of use in certain matters, and the Dark Lord turned his attention to putting that information to good use. With his great power he reached far out into the great realms beyond Mordor, his power flowing along the veins of evil that stretched across the world linking every evil creature that walked crawled or flied directly to him. He found the forces he was looking for, and pushed his vileness into their minds, until even they cowered on the ground under the weight of his domination.

 _"_ _Orcs."_ He hissed to them. _"The fallen wizard has spoken of the Fellowship in Moria. They will be in Lothlorien. Push the attack. The Lady of Light must fall to our darkness…"_

* * *

Smaug faltered, his wings barely able to keep him aloft a moment longer. Wounds from his battle stung his flesh but they could easily be ignored and later healed. It was more the exhaustion that plagued him worst now. The Balrog had drained him of energy, and now he feared he would drop to sleep in mid-flight. The call of much-need rest was so strong his eyes drooped more often than he would've liked. It was only the fierce instincts that his mate would be injured should he fall that kept him awake – they demanded he keep his most precious treasure safe above all else. It was a most welcome sight when his dragon-sight first spotted the trees of Lothlorien in the distance as they hurriedly descended from the mountains. Smaug was less flapping his wings, and more just sticking them out to glide his way down. Faintly, he felt Kathryn touch at his fingers, heard her voice but didn't catch her sweet words. He was grateful for the reminder that she was still well. He could feel the same exhaustion preyed upon her as it did with him. Growling to himself, Smaug hoped the foolish wizard in his other hand lived to be grateful for this. Should the old man die and Kathryn and Smaug's laborious efforts be for nothing, Smaug would be most unpleased!

The trees swept beneath Smaug in a blur as he passed over them. Though he could sense the powerful magic that kept other dark forces at bay, for some reason it was laid bare to him and allowed him to pass through. Soon he could see the inner sanctum of Lothlorien, the jewel of the forest, with its sparkling lights amidst the trees. Unlike when they'd come to Rivendell, Smaug had no energy or patience to care for the fragile feelings of the elves. He let them cry out in alarm beneath him as he came in for a hard landing in a clearing just beyond the sight of the palaces in the trees. The landing was much harder and less graceful than he intended, but he couldn't care less. It was all he could do to put Kathryn and Gandalf down on the ground and move slightly aside before he could collapse to the ground. Usually, Smaug would be insulted to be found by the approaching elves when in such a weakened state. But after so long of hard flying just to get to the misty mountains, before his battle with the Balrog and then the race here, he was more than a little spent. Was he getting out of practise when it came to things like this?

Kathryn herself was too exhausted to even put up much of a defence. When he heard the sound of armoured boots approaching, the dragon tried his best to defend her. His wing came to pull her into its shadow and shield her from harm. Yet the pair of them were shocked out of their minds when the soldiers parted the way and out stepped an elf-woman.

She was the most beautiful elf in all creation. Her skin as smooth and bright as starlight, her hair a river of gold, the colour of which had not been matched by any other in living memory. Her eyes were as hard as diamonds, yet her smile was as curved and perfect as the crescent moon. Garbed in white, she seemed to radiate power and grace in every slow step, every twitch of a finger. Tall for an elf woman, she towered over Kathryn even when she knelt before the human-woman. Smaug was too astonished by the sight of her and too exhausted to do little more than growl a warning when the elven lady grew too close. She paid him no attention, however, and merely reached out her hand towards Kathryn. The glint of a ring and the hum of its power caught the dragon's attention.

And then she spoke with a voice Smaug and Kathryn both recognised from the mountaintop. "Be welcome, _Tharŷliel…_ "

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hello my lovely readers. I know it has been a few months since my last update, but there are a few reasons for this. Recently, I've been battling illness, as well as stress, and managing finance - and as you an guess, being broke doesn't help with stress. The reason I tell you all this, is because I've been receiving several abusive messages regarding this story. Funnily enough, foul language and insults are not going to motivate me to update. It will do the opposite. I'll not name names, but these people know who they are.**

 **Having said that, there have been a couple of questions raised by guest reviewers that I want to address here, seeing as they were courteous and nice. The question was: Why do I start other stories instead of finishing this one? Because fanfiction is supposed to be this haven where I can release my creativity, test my boundaries, and see what I can do. I like the thought of branching off into other genres, other stories, seeing other characters, I find it helps to give me new perspectives on things and broaden my abilities as an author. I've said it once, I'll say it again: THIS STORY IS NOT DEAD. Other stories don't come first, they just have moments of my attention. **

**With all of this in mind, I will now give a formal pledge to you all: Should I not update faster, you can expect an update at the beginning of every month from now on. So, starting first week of April, the next chapter will be up. Then first week of May (if not before), etc, etc.**

 **Also, please go to deviant art for an illustration of this chapter - Thank you!**


	8. Chapter 8 - The Downfall of Mortals

**A/N: I promised you all a chapter during the first week of the month, and I now deliver**.

 **I feel like I should've given my readers fair warning before now, but I will say it here: I might be screwing around with the timing of certain events, so that the narrative more flows in the way that I want it to. Hopefully, I won't need to do this too much, but I'm just giving you all a fair warning now.**

 **Also, the wonderful Olmo has created a TV Tropes page for this series! YAY! :D Oh my gosh, guys, it's wonderful, do go check it out and show it some love!**

* * *

Chapter 8 – The Downfall of Mortals –

 _In winter here no heart could mourn for summer or for spring. No blemish or sickness or deformity could be seen in anything that grew upon the earth. On the land of Lórien, there was no stain." J.R.R Tolkien – The Fellowship of the Ring_

* * *

Smaug and Kathryn awoke some time later and were well fed in order to replenish their strength. The elves of Lothlorien treated them well, much better than Smaug would've expected of them, actually. The elves of Rivendell had shown manners but had also been terrified of him, either through guessing at his true nature, or because they sensed something was dangerous about him. But the inhabitants of Lothlorien were different… Smaug usually thought of elves as arrogant, self-entitled and insufferable air-heads. They claimed to be the first children of Eru-Iluvatar, and as such used it as a basis for their grandiose higher-than-thou aloofness. But even discounting that, the elves of Lothlorien were… odd. They appeared to walk with a feather-weight, their voices always calm and whispered, as if their minds inhabited another plain of reality. Gentle and kind and exceedingly gracious were they, yet Smaug detected in every turn of their back was a suspicious whisper, or behind every smile was a dagger ready to strike at the earliest provocation. Oh yes, Smaug could tell that these elves were vipers hidden in the grass: charming and beautiful to beguile and fool the unwitting, and then would strike with deadly force if threatened.

And yet, for some strange reason, the Lady of the forest, _Galadriel_ she called herself, had offered them protection. Upon meeting the dragon and his cargo in the clearing within her forest, she had taken the wizard from them and given him to her healers. She'd then taken an exhausted Kathryn in her arms and slowly led her away. Smaug had at first protested, but was silenced by one look, and a voice in his mind that swore protection and care for him and his mate so long as they were civil. He had not wanted to trust her, but considering how closely he had teetered on falling unconscious, he had been given little choice. When he'd awoken, the fatigue in him was gone, as if he'd had the best rest in years. He'd been fed by the elves at first, before he recovered some of his own pride and left to hunt. When he returned a few hours later, Kathryn awaited him. Some small spark in his chest was set at ease to see her well, and he did not relinquish her easily after that.

From what they understood, the elven healers were doing everything they could to save Gandalf's life. Galadriel and her husband devoted much time to their guests, and told them how the Fellowship had left the borders of Lothlorien only the previous day before the dragon had landed in the forest. The elven lady came to speak with Smaug once over the following two days. Mostly as formalities, she spoke few words but each one had weight and meaning. The lady of light was not one to waste words. For a dragon who prided himself on good tastes, Smaug always said that elves were the best of the races to look at (for even a disagreeable elf was exceedingly fair by mortal standards). Yet Galadriel's beauty unnerved him to a degree. She was otherworldly and without flaw, and Smaug expected beauty to be accompanied by either vanity or weakness of character. And Galadriel had neither. She never showed fear, and it put him on edge.

Smaug wanted them out of Lothlorien, to be gone and back to their home, yet he knew without even asking that such a thing was not possible. Kathryn awaited anxiously for any kind of news regarding Gandalf's health. She obsessed over it. And though she tried to hide it from him, his eyes never missed the winces or the way she would try not to hunch over her stomach when it caused her pain. And over the past few days, that was often.

The Dragon-Dread was at odds with himself. He wanted to snatch Kathryn up in his claws and whisk her far away from all danger, where neither of them could be dragged into this war. Yet he knew she would not stand for it, she was determined to be sure that all this was right. Smaug knew why she did this, that her human-sentimentality forced her to action because she could not bear the thought of watching the world burn in the fires of war. She cared more for strangers and their wellbeing, who would never even know her name nor care to, she cared more for the world as a whole than it would ever care for her. She wanted to forge a better world so that she could live without fear for herself and their offspring. Smaug did not know why she would do this – for surely it was wiser to worry about one's own survival first and foremost? The conflict in him arose with the knowledge that he wanted to tell her how foolish she was and fly away with her. Yet at the same time, he felt the urge to fight these battles for her. Once, a long time ago, he had sworn an oath to himself to find their happiness in the face of her closing herself off to him. He'd fought for that happiness, had taken the slow and careful route to make Kathryn love him again. Now that he had it, he refused to let anyone or anything take it from him.

Kathryn visited him often but they did not speak much. Then, one evening, after another regular visit to see if the wizard's condition had improved (it hadn't), she came to him. Smaug had almost set himself up in the clearing, seeing as within the forest the trees were far too closely packed to allow him room, and he most certainly did not want to transform here. It was too soon after battle, the fight with the Balrog had left Smaug feeling open to attack from any quarter, so he stayed ready for battle at a moment's notice. He also stayed this way because he'd foolishly convinced himself that Kathryn would come to him and tell him it was time they returned home. She hadn't, and his frustration at her only grew. When she sat close beside him in his clearing, her form was close enough to his talons that either one of them could reach out and touch the other. Neither of them did.

"Hello," she murmured a little awkwardly. "Are you well?"

"A few mere cuts and bruises have healed quickly." He said matter-of-factly.

The more his silence engulphed them, the more her expression seemed to fall. Her fingers twiddled in her lap anxiously, arms unconsciously curled around her bulging belly. When she spoke, her usually beautiful voice was choked with emotion that was just begging to be released. "Gandalf, he's… he's not getting any better. Though, I should be grateful that he doesn't seem to be getting any worse…" she trailed off and Smaug continued to say nothing. Finally, she turned her purple gaze onto his face, and tentatively, she stretched her arm to reach out for his talons. "I wanted to thank you."

His eyes snapped down to her. "Thank me?"

"For what you did. Getting us there in time… fighting the Balrog…" she shuddered. "I was so frightened, I couldn't bare to watch. But you fought and you won. And I was so relieved to see you come back…"

" _Thank_ me?" he hissed the word again, moving his claws out from her grasp. Too late did she recognise the anger that burned in his bright orbs. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"Smaug?" she looked confused up at him, as if she didn't quite understand his sudden ire. And that only made him all the more incredulous.

"Dragging us into a feud against the Dark Lord, drawing all kinds of attention to ourselves, practically screaming our stance against him. All done in a single moment that wasn't thought through for a second." And then he sneered down at her. "But never mind that, I'm certain your _thanks_ will suffice nicely."

"I beg your pardon!"

"How could you?" he growled out, lips peeled back as he could not hold back the frustration that had been raging through his body for days. "After everything we've done, you would throw us both back into the fire without a moment of consideration!"

"Smaug, Gandalf would have died if we hadn't been there."

"And why should that matter? Why should I care about him or any of them? Why shouldn't I only care about you and I and our safety, our future? Now all of that had been put in jeopardy!"

Finally fed up, Kathryn rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "If you're going to be cantankerous, Smaug, at least make some sense whilst doing so!"

Oh no. He would not have her walk away from him, not now. Before she could get up to leave him to strop, the dragon whipped his tail along the ground and wound it around her. The wall of scales encased her, so that she could not take a single step in any direction. Realising he intended to drag this argument out, she slowly turned back around to face, glaring up at him. Smaug heard the footsteps of elves at the edge of the clearing, clearly summoned by the escalation of their bickering. The dragon took a single moment to raise his head and growl at them savagely. The spines along his back flexed and straightened like hackles. Lips peeled back, he showed them his teeth in clear warning to not come any closer. He wanted privacy for this. The elves warily walked away. At last, he turned back to the woman surrounded by his coils.

"The problem, my _dear_ Kathryn, is that you persistently believe you can throw your life away as if it were of no consequence." He growled down at her. "Constantly you risk yourself for others, to save them from any threat possible, and frankly I'm tired of it!"

Her eyes narrowed, her could feel the build of her emotions though she struggled to keep a semblance of calm. "And what else is there to be done? If you'd had your way, we would never have left home."

"And why shouldn't we? Why can we not leave this world to run itself? We were perfectly happy and _safe_ where we were." The urge to snatch her up, to fly with her back to their cavern home was overwhelming. His dragon nature demanded it be done. Yet the other half of him, the half tied most intrinsically to Kathryn, would not do so. He knew it would only cause her to hate him should he abandon their course. Whilst he didn't want that, he would do so in a heartbeat if it meant the pair of them would be safe.

"You would seriously argue with me because I wish to do the decent and right thing?"

"And what happens when that _wish_ lands you in a situation that not even I can save you from?"

At that, the human's brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Realising what he had said, Smaug immediately wished he had never uttered it. He did not want to make it true simply by speaking such words. And yet a greater part of him wanted to vent, to unleash all the broiling anger that she had caused to simmer for quite some time now. It was a growing need, an urge on the tip of his tongue that was impossible to ignore. Behind him, his tail flicked back and forth with agitation. A deep growl made his throat vibrate. For how could she not know? And how could he tell her? How could he explain to her that deeper than his worry over their political standing, deeper than his want to be back in his home and undisturbed, there was something far more unpleasant. It had eaten at his mind for quite some time now, long before the events of this very week. It had kept him awake into the nights, plagued him with doubt and sown seeds of discord into his waking thoughts. How could he tell the woman he loved, the woman who was now heavy with his child, that he couldn't look upon her anymore without ugly thoughts racing through his mind? For who could explain the hate and the hurt and the _fear_ inside him?

Yes, fear. Smaug feared little in this world, for nothing was beyond his ability to dominate, obliterate or control. But this… This was far beyond him. To watch Kathryn grow heavy, to see her body be battered, her energies drained and her soul grow weak… all because of him. After fifty years of relative peace, Smaug had been the one to first breech the subject of children. He'd tried once many years ago during the incident of Vathvael to impregnate Kathryn, hooked on the idea of making her his in every way possible, to cement their ties by giving her something of himself. But that had backfired. So he'd first brought up the subject of parenthood again, just in passing, to test the waters. Kathryn had responded with careful thought before she'd shown her enthusiasm. After that, it was hard for Smaug to deny her wish; once she'd been given the inspiration, she was determined to have it realised. It wasn't until some time later that they'd unexpectedly seemingly gotten their wish.

And then tragedy struck. Smaug had honestly been disappointed and grieved that nature would deny him the chance to join the essence of himself with Kathryn to create something new. But in hindsight, though he hated to even think it, he wished that nature had never given them the chance. Because now he was forced to watch as _his_ child, slowly killed the one woman he valued more than anything else in this world. Kathryn thought she was subtle and clever when she hid how hard this pregnancy was on her. Smaug could easily tell that her body was battered, sometimes without even the strength to function properly. With his superior senses, he could even see the energies of her spirit be drained away, leaving little left in the human's body. Every day brought him new fear: fear that this would be the last, that he would have to watch Kathryn slowly die right before his eyes – again.

"I should never have given in to your desires," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head. The words would not stop, the disdain in his voice unable to be hidden when he glared down at the parasite growing within her. "I should never have even tried to put that _thing_ inside you. It is not worth the price of watching you wilt and die from it."

The words immediately hurt her. Her gasp rattled in her lungs and tears immediately sprung to her eyes. There was a moment, where it seemed her emotion might burst into defensive fury. "Smaug, do not say such things about our child–" she swallowed when her voice caught in her throat. Another shuddering breath was taken in an attempt to steady herself. When she looked upon him, however, her gaze was filled with pity. "Is that what you fear? That all of this will lead to my death?"

"I will not sit by and wait for doom to strike me. I'd rather fight it off with tooth and claw myself."

"I'm not going anywhere, Smaug," said she, voice gentle. "Nothing is going to happen to me. This fear will only–"

"Do not attempt to placate me." He snapped. "I will not suffer the insult to my intelligence."

"I promise that no harm will ever come to me. But this was what we accepted when we asked for children." Slowly, her hand reached out once more, and he felt the smallest and most tender touch against his warm scales. "Speak to me, Smaug. What will ease your mind? What will sooth this fear? Name it and I will give what I can,"

Slowly, he turned his fiery gaze upon, the light from his eye making her face glow golden. "Swear to me," he near whispered. Head brought low and near to her until only a hair's breadth separated his lips from her flesh. Though the dragon-spell did not work on Kathryn, the intensity of his gaze, the paranoia and desperation of his hard stare was a magic all its own on the woman made mute in its glare. "I want you to swear it to me that you will always remain with me. You will not needlessly risk yourself, you will not put others before yourself, you will not die before my eyes. You will remain here, in this life, with me."

He waited on baited breath for her response, sides quivering, talons gauging into the earth. But never once did his eyes leave her face, not even to blink. He _needed_ to hear the words, his mind would not rest until he heard them. There had to be some assurance to him, that she would stay with him. The fixation inside himself refused to allow any other possibility.

Slowly, Kathryn gazed back into his stare unflinchingly, and spoke. "I… I swear to you, Smaug. I'll fight to always remain at your side. In this life, and the next."

The breath that left his lungs made his shoulders sag. Nothing was settled for sure, and the uneasiness in his heart was still to be contended with. But for now, that was the most he could ask for. Seeing him somewhat calmed by her words, Kathryn held out her arms to him as if she meant to embrace him. Tentatively, carefully, Smaug brought his gigantic head down and close to her. He settled himself upon the floor at her feet, his chin brushing her knees. Kathryn's hands immediately stroked along his lips and between his nostrils. The sensitive pours there felt every electrical twitch in her body where she touched him. The feel of her touch helped to ease him further into a state of calm. She leant forward enough so that she could lean her head upon his scales, her red hair draped up and along his snout.

"Come back to me, Smaug," she whispered to him sweetly. "We have not even dreamed for so long… I have missed you,"

He could only rumble his response. He too had felt the gap between them widening as of late, his own fears part of the problem, though he sensed it was not the only reason. The past few months had seemed to undo their hard work of the past sixty years. Smaug gratefully relished in her affection now, as desperate as she was to rekindle their closeness after such distance between them.

Daringly, his tongue slithered out from between his lips and flickered against her body. She gasped at the sensation of his hot saliva soaking through her clothes to reach her skin. A smile spread across her lips, and her hands lingered on his scales in a more sensual way. Smaug's rumble turned into a purr. Perhaps it was something of a feat that the sexual aspect of their relationship had not been completely destroyed.

But then, Kathryn's brow furrowed. She tried to keep her face from reacting, but her smile became strained and then her lips twisted. A hiss escaped her. Pressed against him, he felt it when her stomach convulsed and moved. Kathryn's nails dug into the edges between his scales in a white-knuckle grip. She nearly doubled over, breathing through her teeth. Blood drained from her face for a moment, before swimming back as she got over the pain. She tried to straighten and give him a reassuring smile, to pretend that all was well.

Yet the damage had already been done. Smaug carefully and resolutely extracted himself from her grasp, pulling out of her reach. He wouldn't look at her as he got to his feet and walked away. That voice he so loved called out to him, but he ignored it as he left her there. Blood could be smelt on the air. It wouldn't be long now, an instinct told him. Soon, his Kathryn would be taken from him, and he would find himself in darkness, one way or another.

* * *

Hot tears scorched Kathryn's face as she watched Smaug leave. Shamed by his departure, she attempted to collect herself, to process everything that had happened. Yet still her emotions could not be forsaken so easily.

She wasn't aware of the presence behind her until a few moments later, when a figure garbed in white entered her field of vision. Kathryn gasped and hurriedly attempted to wipe away her tears, embarrassed. The elven lady was so beautiful and so mystically powerful even when just standing there, that Kathryn felt hugely inadequate and lacking when in her presence. Since arriving in Lothlorien, Kathryn had been in awe of Galadriel, envious yet also worshipping of her. Galadriel was everything Kathryn wanted to be. She had her own power, her own might, she was given the greatest respect to any Middle-Earth, yet always remained calm and filled with majesty.

Galadriel held no judgement in her eyes as she gazed upon the human woman. Instead the noble smile that always graced her eyes remained true. She merely held out her hand towards Kathryn. "Come,"

Hesitantly, Kathryn's hand trembled to reach for the long and slender fingers. Her eyes caught on a bright white ring forged into flower petals on Galadriel's hand, and she felt a force call out to her magic. A music hinted at the edges of her mind, like a song once sung but barely remembered. Reflexively, Kathryn pulled away, gazed unwavering from that which had so caught her unawares.

"You know of the Ring of Adamant," said Galadriel, holding her ring up to the light, one brow twitched to question.

"It is like a pull upon my heart, a noise I cannot ignore. The magic of the world responds to them all, and mine with it." Kathryn knew of the Rings of Power and where they had been scattered across the world. Her research when hidden away had revealed as much. Yet she had never thought to accidentally run into one of the three elven rings. "But this is not like the One Ring. Yet it is unmissable."

"Indeed."

Galadriel turned and began to stroll away back into the shadow of the forest. With the impression that she had not yet been dismissed, Kathryn followed. The seer accompanied in the Elven lady's shadow, a disciple ready to follow her master anywhere. Midnight blue clothes lent to her from the elves sparkled in fading daylight. The path beneath her bare feet was smooth with not a rock or thorn to prick her tender soles. The soft light in the torches cast a mystical filter across the forest. No other elves disturbed them as the two walked on, Kathryn didn't even see anyone else.

"What news of Gandalf?" Kathryn asked, apprehensive in the silence. "Please, there must be something you can do for him…"

"My healers have done all they can… My _Mithrandir_ must decide his fate now." The words had been what Kathryn had expected, but it still caused her stomach to sink when a miraculous cure hadn't presented itself. Galadriel glanced over her shoulder, seeming to observe the human's dejection. "You have come to care for him a great deal…"

"Gandalf has shown me kindness, guided me, understood me and taught me much. I have learned a lot from him."

"His way of inspiring others is most a most distinct characteristic of his."

The pair gently stepped down a flight of stairs a small garden down below nestled between the arms of great tree roots. A stream trickled between the rocks and the tree. At the centre of the garden was a simple yet mesmerizingly sparkling white basin. To the rim it was filled with water, yet it did not shimmer or ripple as water tended to do. Instead it was as still as glass, reflecting back the dawning dusk and moonlight that filtered through the leaves above. As Galadriel led Kathryn into the garden, a still air swept over them, as if time itself had frozen its breath.

Kathryn edged towards the fountain, to where it glittered bright in the dimness. But she dared not step close enough to see over the lip of the basin. "What is that?"

"That is the Mirror," Galadriel's voice was a soft hush. She glided forward, her fingers caressing along the side of the basin, though never once did she touch it. "The Mirror can show many things, from what has been, what is and what has yet to be."

The meaning of the words didn't hit Kathryn straight away, and when they did, her eyes snapped back to Galadriel and she gaped. "You have the sight? Like me?"

"Not entirely as you do. But yes, my sight is cast some ways across the ocean of time."

For a moment, Kathryn couldn't find the words to speak. How long had she wanted this moment? To meet, speak with someone who was capable of understanding what it was like to have prophetic visions. Elrond had been gifted with the sight as well, but as Kathryn had discovered long ago, his visions were seldom. But what if Galadriel could know this as she did?

"Then you can tell me what I need to do. Help me to understand this," Kathryn pleaded. "For the last sixty years I have tried to grow with this power, to understand it. Yet there are times I feel that every new revelation means that I am no closer to when I started."

"Time is not for anyone to know. Not even those who are as long lived as the elves can fully comprehend it."

"But that's not enough." She shook her head, a flare of frustration threatening to ignite her stomach. "You know what's coming, the danger that is about to declare war on us all. We have to fight it. And I can't do that with what I have now."

Galadriel's eyes locked onto Kathryn's with a stare as intense as a dragon's. "And what would you have instead?"

"Help me know how to use this power against my enemies." She declared. "The last time I faced Fankil, I barely had the means to drive him off. I cannot do that again, I need to destroy him. He and Sauron will take everything I have: my love, my child, my power, my sanity! I cannot let that happen, I must be stronger. My magic greater than his."

"If you believe that great power will defeat this darkness, then you have learned nothing from _Mithrandir_."

She froze. How could Galadriel say that? Kathryn didn't mean to imply anything, but didn't anyone else but her see that she needed to be stronger? Her own magic had killed her once before, so how could she hope to use it against Sauron and Fankil unless she was able to wield it? This wasn't a matter of ambition, but survival. Kathryn turned away, attempting to control her temper. She should've learned by now how to work others to seeing her way, after so long living with Smaug. Yet even when she rivalled the Dúnedain in terms of age, the ideas she presented were still dismissed like a child's musings. She crossed her arms, hands disappearing inside her wide deep-blue sleeves.

When Galadriel spoke, her often gentle voice had an edge of disdain. "Even in one who has the potential to be as long lived as the Eldar, you are still bound to the doom of all mortals."

"Death."

"The _fear_ of death." Galadriel corrected. "It drives mortals to great lengths to escape it. Temptation, greed, violence, all are easily grasped by those who fear death and the unknown of what waits beyond."

Perhaps Kathryn was being oversensitive about it, but she had the distinct impression that Galadriel did not think highly of mankind's ability to die. In fact, a lot of elves seemed repulsed by the idea. Kathryn could not find it in herself to be that way. Even though she could live hundreds of years thanks to Smaug's meddling, she still stove to live her life as a mortal woman would. Each day needed to be lived. For what was to wait beyond? The Elves had the assurance that even should they die, they would end up in Valinor, but men and dwarves did not have such a kindness. They did not know. And that was worse than knowing they might all end up in hell. Not knowing meant one didn't understand death, could only guess, pin foolish hopes, and then fear it.

 _The worst is yet to come, Tharŷliel."_ Said the whispered voice clearly in Kathryn's mind. She spun back to Galadriel, who's eyes were hard as diamonds spearing her. _"Should you not shed this vice, then you will soon be brought low by the downfall of all mortals. For even with your gift to live as endlessly as a dragon, and to see all corners of time, you are still marred by your inability to escape the near-sightedness that comes with a short lifespan."_

The elf must've read her thoughts. But what was the alternative? The elves seemed completely disinterested in this world as of late. For a moment, Kathryn found herself filled with contempt for the pure race, for they judged and lorded over others, yet they seemed to live as if they were guests to life. They carried on with a passing interest in this world as one might have when they visited the house of a friend. As if they knew they were headed for true home.

"And what would you have me do?" Kathryn finally snapped.

"Long ago, Irmo granted you the ability to see all there is," Galadriel tilted her head to better see the red-haired woman's reaction.

"The Path of Dreams,"

"And yet you have not touched it, not embraced it."

"I cannot."

"Or perhaps you _will_ not. You have been too blinded to see it. This is your task to bare, since you were first appointed yet you have refused to heed the call."

"I do not want to be _appointed!"_ Kathryn exclaimed. Suddenly, she was filled with anger, and her hair whipped about her like her husband's fire. "All my life I have had no choice in my fate! Nothing has ever happened to me because I _want_ it, I've always done what needs to be. I've always made the sacrifice because I knew it was right – not because it was my choice to do so."

"There is always the choice. Even your own immortality, even your own magic, is your choice."

"Then you know nothing of me that is true."

"If you believe I am wrong, then look into the Mirror." With a small leading gesture of her white-garbed hand, Galadriel indicated to the Mirror beside, which Kathryn hadn't even realised she'd been drawing closer to. "Combine it with your own power, and you will see all that shall come to pass."

Kathryn scoffed in disgust. "You think I wish to see that? To know for certain the death toll I must count? To know how I and those I care for die? You are cruel, Galadriel, to add more weight to the burden that haunts me."

"If you are too craven to take that chance–"

"I am not my husband, so you will not manipulate me with petty insults." She spat and turned away. "It was a mistake to come here."

But what was? To come to Lothlorien? No, that was not the mistake, for Gandalf needed the help of healers. So perhaps the mistake was following Galadriel here? Maybe Smaug had been right, they should've stayed home. For it was clear the rest of society was still not ready for her to walk amongst. The thought saddened her, and she clutched her stomach, grieved to think of the lonely life ahead of her child. As she came to the steps, Kathryn couldn't help herself but cast one last look upon Galadriel's mirror, hand still lingering over her unborn babe.

"And what of your child?" Galadriel suddenly asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Such a bright light, like the sun and the moon… the two trees… so brightly it burns that it captivates me." The elven lady seemed awed for a moment, and then her eyes found Kathryn again and became cold. "What others will be similarly enchanted, I wonder. A miracle born into the world again, and many shall wish to see. And when they see, they shall lust. So, what of your child's fate, _Tharŷliel_? Will you doom it with your pride?"

Righteous fury descended over Kathryn. How dare she imply such a thing! And who would dare try to take her precious child from her! A hellfire rage the likes that only one who has loved a child can express passed through the Seer. She was enraged, and terrified. Before her brain could tell her feet not to, she had already marched across the garden and towards the mirror. Her fingers trembled to grip the edge of the basin. She could already feel her magic rush through her veins and encompass her mind, to pull on a vision as the Mirror responded in kind. It would be so easy, Kathryn realised, to look just over the edge and peer into the still-water… And that was why Kathryn suddenly gasped and ripped herself away from the Mirror's gaze.

"No…" she heaved for breath, all at once aware of how fast her heart pounded against her ribs. A fog cleared from her mind, and on shaking legs, the woman stood and looked back to the elven lady. "No. I know too well that prophecies only come true mostly because they are self-fulfilled."

"Do not feel shamed, Kathryn," came the sweetest reply. A moment later, a feather-soft touch graced Kathryn's chin, tilting her face upwards to look into the soft and smiling eyes of the tall elven woman. Galadriel beamed. "Your heart has proven true."

It took Kathryn a moment to realise what had just happened, and she gawked. "Wait… this was all a test?"

"All of us shall be tested in the days to come. But it is our faith in ourselves that will grant us the light amidst this darkness."

"I-I'm sorry," she spluttered, cheeks burning with embarrassment to realise how well she had been played. "For the way I spoke, how I acted, that was unbecoming and I–"

Galadriel's laughter could've brought the entire world to a standstill just to bask in her affection. "Hush… Do not fear yourself, Kathryn. And always remember: the choice is yours."

* * *

Long after he left Kathryn in the clearing, Smaug wandered the forests of Lorien – or as much as a creature of his size could allow. Eventually he was given little choice, for his patience hard worn thin and he decided to take to the air. He did not have a destination in mind, he merely drifted through different altitudes as he circled over the forest. The cool air and darkness allowed his mind the clarity to think on everything that had occurred. He did not wish to allow this intense foreboding he always felt in his stomach to get the better of him, but it was beyond his control now.

Pulling himself up short between the cloud layers, Smaug hovered in the air gazed down upon his chest to the horrid imperfection that marred his otherwise flawless armour. The black scar that twisted over where his missing scale had once been was dull in the light of the moon. Such a little thing… yet it was a constant reminder of everything he had to lose. Every now and then, whenever Smaug's dreams or thoughts would turn more delightfully sinister, the scar would ache and pulse like a vein was squirming underneath the flesh. As if it were testing its root inside his breast, though would cease the moment his thoughts were distracted by it. For not the first time, Smaug took a claw and tried to pierce it into the black-scar. Like a leech he could hook and pull out of him, Smaug tried to dig in his talons and pull at his flesh. Droplets of boiling blood made his fingers slippery, and an intense pain bloomed out from the infection. No matter how hard he tried, the flesh would not yield, and Smaug was forced to surrender. With a growl to himself, he folded in his wings to drop back through the sky.

As he alighted through the air towards the trees far below, a flash of movement caught his eye. With a predator's gaze he followed it, and saw an elven guard running through the branches of the trees. The cloaks that would normally shield the elves from unwanted eyes were no match for a dragon, and as it caught the moonlight was what drew Smaug's attention. Where the elven scout passed a sense of alarm spread through the forest. In the leaves of the trees and in the whisper of the air itself, came the hushed alarm.

"To arms! To arms!" said the scout in elvish to those he passed as he made his way to Lothlorien's heart. "Orcs have come! To arms!"

Smaug's head snapped up, glowing eyes attempting to see far beyond that of the elves to spy these mysterious orc forces that amassed. In the far distance, he thought he spied the lights of flickering torches, could faintly hear the march of armoured boots. The wind shifted, and Smaug's nose was suddenly assaulted with the stench of Orc. Yet this confused the fire-drake. For he had come to assume that Nenya, Galadriel's Ring of Power, protected the forest kingdom in a shroud that could not be breached. Had the Ring failed? Or did the orcs have some power to counter it? Or had something else drawn them in?

Yet then, the question that became apparent was: What could possibly lead them here?

* * *

Kathryn was unable to return to the quarters she'd been given, unable to even think of rest. There was a thrum, an energy humming in her bones subtly so as to be unnoticed yet urge her to move. As well as that, the cramps she'd been subjected to all day were more pronounced at night. Her stomach pained her to such a degree that not even a bath could placate her. At least it was not the birthing pains – for that, Kathryn was grateful. So instead, she used the time of the night to walk off her bodily complaints and to think on Galadriel's words.

She was still mortified to think she'd fallen for trickery that had caused her to act in such a way. Perhaps Smaug wasn't the only one that needed to work on his temper. But more than that, Kathryn's mind always circled back to the same thing. What had Galadriel meant by her choice? It was as Kathryn had said, she'd had little choice throughout her life. No decision felt like her own. She never chose to become a seer, it happened on its own. She never chose to go to Erebor, Smaug kidnapped her; and she never chose to leave it either, Smaug forced her out. Her only choice had been to die, and that had even been subverted and taken from her. So what could Galadriel mean?

In her wanderings around the forest, Kathryn found herself suddenly back in the small garden nestled between the tree roots at the bottom of the stairs. There, the mirror stood proud and waiting. And there was no Galadriel here to safeguard it. Though she knew better, Kathryn felt drawn to it. It was a pull, an insatiable curiosity.

What would it be like, she wondered, to expand her power with a single glance? Kathryn's visions were always fierce and vivid, yet she was only shown small snippets, like a fragment of a mirror. What if she could see the whole reflection? The words she'd spoken earlier to Galadriel haunted her again and she almost turned away once more. If she gazed into the mirror, she knew she would push herself down a road that she might not like but would be compelled to walk. If the future she saw was not to her liking, then it would always be in the back of her mind, she would always try to avoid it, and in so doing she would only make it come true.

But what more damage could she do? Being someone so intricately connected to the rivers of time, Kathryn felt that she more than anyone might be able to avoid a self-fulfilling prophecy. And the temptation was there, unable to be denied. What if she could cast herself in time and see if she and Smaug would live through this war… and perhaps she might even behold the fate of her precious child…

As she had learned from Andraya, a mother's love is both pure and corrupting. With just a thought cast to the wellbeing of her child, Kathryn abandoned all rationale, and pushed her head over the lip of the basin to gaze into the Mirror.

Immediately, Kathryn felt her magic flush through her, and encompass her with liquid fire over her brain and a seizure in her heart. Her eyes became orbs of purple as the vision took hold and the Mirror reflected it a thousand fold.

 _So many things tried to show themselves to Kathryn at once. The entire fabric of time, from its creation to its end, attempted to assault her mind all at once. In an instant, her mind almost buckled and broke from the pressure, and in an attempt to save itself tried to stem back the tide. Droplets managed to slip through the cracks, becoming snippets of so many different things._

 _She saw Easterling soldiers, astride their awful trunked animals, crossing the river Carnen and heading towards a familiar solitary peak… Dragon fought dragon through a storm of wind and snow, blood boiling the ground below… Then she was at the mouth of a long dark and dank tunnel, a hole filled with nothing but nightmare and evil. A hobbit with tears of despair in his eyes wandered it, lost, as a skeletal creature of pity and envy watched… A pit of fire and hate opened before a golden band meant to be cast into its depths yet turned away… In a void beyond time and matter, a monster hung chained and forgotten in darkness…_

 _Before she could see more, a shout, a whisper, a roar and a groan all in one eclipsed a voice that thundered through Kathryn's skull. Pain made her scream, an evil entity seeping into her soul as the Mirror was transformed into an eye wreathed in flames!_


End file.
